


Alec Lightwood Wants to [REDACTED]

by nhixxie



Series: [REDACTED] Universe [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ft Raj Bhandari being an asshole, Ft two annoying straights, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Insert all the highschool tropes you know and put it here, Lapdance, M/M, Rutting, They're dumb but they're my dumb babies ur honor, Victor Aldertree is a human ass wipe, and now for serious tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:00:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 70,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22593670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhixxie/pseuds/nhixxie
Summary: Magnus smiles, cheer uniform the brightest of red. “What can I do for you, Alec?” There’s a momentary pause, a breath passing through Alec's lips, and his feet shifts onto the grass of the football field. He feels a hundred eyes on him. He finally says, a soft, pleading request,  “Can I kiss you?”Where Alec Lightwood decides he wants to come out, and Magnus Bane decides to extend a helping hand.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: [REDACTED] Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718722
Comments: 439
Kudos: 765
Collections: Very Best Malec





	1. Alec Lightwood Wants to Fuck

**Author's Note:**

> This is nothing but indulgence over the fact that I want to experience writing Malec being whiny and piney and young and dumb. That's the only purpose to this madness, and if this happens to have a substantial plot, I'd be very surprised, lmao! Anyways, I'm @cardiamachina on twitter and follow #nhixxiefic as well if you're into the live tweeting sort of thing!
> 
> Enjoy!

  


Alec Lightwood wants to fuck.

Wait, no, Alec Lightwood is fucked.

 _Wait._ Alec Lightwood wants to fuck, and is fucked, both of which can be mutually exclusive of each other, except of course depending on the context.

(Alec Lightwood breathes a heavy sigh, brow furrowed, fingers pinched at the inner corner of his eyes.)

Context. Let’s give it some context. 

Alec Lightwood, for the longest time, has thought that he has his entire four years of high school planned to the very last dot. He’s going to continue his academic trajectory of towards class valedictorian. He’s going to continue carrying the Idris varsity football team on his back like he always does. He’s going to continue tutoring Isabelle, Max, and by extension, Jace if he ever gets his head out of his ass and take his academics seriously, on their weaker subjects. He’s going to (quietly, secretly) continue his volunteer work at a nearby elderly care facility five blocks down his home. 

That’s his four-year plan. And no matter what means he needs to use—his substantial GPA or a possible football scholarship if it’s in the cards—he’s getting into a good university, and hop onto the family occupation of medicine, an already pre-arranged trajectory from the moment he was born. 

Yes, yes, he’s aware that he’s a pathologic workaholic, and it doesn’t help that he has the tendency to be a perfectionist. Also, his demeanor can be described as downright foul, like there’s always something stinky right under his nose. He’s aware he walks the halls of his school with a look that can choke a man where he stands, muscles of his jaw flexing consistently, and an eternal scowl on his face. He’s wound up so tight he could very well combust any second. And high school kids are just that level of horny to see Alec ‘Impending Disaster’ Lightwood and think _yup, I want him in me._

Wait, what were we talking about? Oh, yes, context.

The four-year plan has always been that tight because there are things that Alec Lightwood wants to squeeze out of his life. One of them is dealing with Jace’s eternal infatuation with Clary Fray, a family friend and a member of the varsity cheer squad. The other is his dad trying to reconnect a year after the finalization of his parents’ divorce. And the third—

(Alec Lightwood leans back against his headboard, blinking at the ceiling.)

The third is that he’s fully, unfathomably, undoubtedly gay. 

And the four-year plan doesn’t involve coming out.

Until the last week of summer rolls around, and something _shifts_. Alec Lightwood really doesn’t know what it is, nor does he know why it is. It just is. And for the first time in his life, he desires something for himself that doesn’t revolve around the things that needs to be done. For the first time in a long, long time, he simply wants. 

So he decides it’s time to come out. 

Which is why he’s fucked, because he doesn’t have a single clue as to how.

And jesus christ, if he doesn’t get _fucked_ before this school year ends, he might actually die.

Alec Lightwood blearily looks at the clock and sees 7AM blare in red, digital numbers.

“How long have you been awake?”

Alec looks up, sees his sister by the door, hair dishevelled, still in her pajamas. There’s still sleep in her voice.

“A couple of hours, maybe.”

Alec brings his knees towards his chest, and it must make him look softer than he usually is, because Izzy crosses his room, jumps onto his bed, and snuggles her head against his shoulder. Alec smiles small, and leans against hers.

“Have you been thinking the entire time?” she mumbles.

“Yeah.” Alec admits, because Izzy knows, just as much as his mom knows, just as much as his dad knows. 

Izzy brings her knees close to her chest too. “You don’t need to come out if you don’t want to.”

“I do.” Alec says, and Izzy nods.

“Okay.” She says contentedly, “Do you know how you’re gonna do it?”

Alec breathes, puffed cheeks, brow furrowed. “No fucking clue.”

“Well,” Izzy says, feet padding against his mattress, “You have your entire senior year to find out. And I’m with you every step of the way.” 

She rubs her eyes. “I’m even going to ride to school with you today at the ungodly hour that you usually do. That’s how much I’m with you.”

Alec feels his heart flip in his chest, but it’s warm, like it’s been touched by sunlight. He smiles. “Thank you, Iz.”

Izzy pushes herself off the bed. “Breakfast time. And put that trademark scowl back on.” she says teasingly, sleep completely gone from her voice, “We can’t let them know you’re capable of smiling.”

Alec snorts as he dangles his legs off his bed. 

“We can’t have that.”

First day of school is always a game of peacocking, and Magnus Bane is proud to say he peacocks like no other.

“Fuck,” Clary groans defeatedly as she walks down her driveway and hops into Magnus’ car, “That’s not fair.”

Magnus looks back at her with a feigned innocence. “I don’t know what you mean, biscuit.”

“Don’t biscuit me!” Clary exclaims, “We talked about outfits last night! You said you we’re going casual!”

Magnus waves over his ensemble. “This is casual.”

“Do you even see what you look like right now?” Clary demands before squinting at Magnus’ top, “Is that _Dior_?”

Magnus smirks at her proudly. “Vintage. Got it off some guy on e-bay for a fraction of the price.”

“You suck.” Clary whines as she buckles in.

“You look gorgeous, Clary.” Magnus says reassuringly as he pulls into the main road and drives off, “As you always do. Besides, we’ll be in our cheer uniforms soon enough, and that should even the playing field.”

Clary rolls her eyes. “Right, because you look sooo frumpy in them.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Magnus laughs, before hitting the breaks to slow down suddenly as they pass by a familiar maroon house, “Wait, does Izzy need a ride?”

“No, Alec’s driving her.” Clary answers, “Weird huh? Alec usually leaves early. And Izzy almost always take too long for him to wait long enough.”

Magnus purses his lips. Instead of answering, he turns on his speakers and lets the first song on his back to school playlist thump its opening beats.

“God, I love this song.” Clary sighs happily, bringing down her window a crack, and letting the morning breeze filter through.

Magnus smiles and lets his mind wander as they make their last ‘first drive’ to school. About Alec Lightwood—it is interesting. Magnus knows Izzy particularly well since they’re friends and happen to be in the cheer squad together, but Alec Lightwood has been an interesting little mystery since the day they’ve met. Alec clearly has issues; typical first-born syndrome, the type of responsibilities he carries clearly visible in the way his shoulders are hunched rigidly while he walks. He also looks like he hasn’t smiled in a decade, which is unfortunate because _fuck_. The guy is _beautiful_. 

Face chiselled by Michaelangelo, body of a god. Puberty hit Alec Lightwood fast, and it hit him hard, and he ran with that shit the same way he runs across the field with a football tucked within his elbow. And if he looks like _that_ with a scowl, Magnus can’t imagine how he would look with a smile. 

He's as beautiful as the day they first met, kitchen island between them, blender whirring off the side.

Has Magnus mentioned how beautiful the guy is?

 _Appreciative_ thoughts aside, Magnus is sympathetic to the older Lightwood’s situation. He is unfathomably good at everything he does, and that kind of perfection involves hard upkeep. He knows Alec does a lot, and Magnus can’t fathom how he hasn’t short-circuited yet. He hasn’t had a relationship for all of the time Magnus has known of him—lots of gossip, but none confirmed, and again, Alec Lightwood is propped on an unattainable pedestal that he really doesn’t seem to want. 

Magnus is also sympathetic to Alec because of another thing.

He knows, with great clarity, that Alec Lightwood is gay. 

It’s a secret he’s guarded for a long time now. Magnus wishes he could help, but that would mean breaching a line that Alec is definitely not ready to breach. And Alec, just as any other person does, deserves to divulge his secrets when he sees fit.

Magnus thinks it’s weird to be thinking so thoroughly about a person he knows but doesn’t really know, undoubtedly likes but can't really like. It's just as weird as happening upon such an important aspect of Alec’s life despite the distance they've placed between each other. He doesn’t deserve to know this, he thinks. It’s feels like he’s accidentally read an entry in a diary usually kept under lock and key. 

Magnus adjusts his one-handed grip on the steering wheel.

_Guess I’m taking this secret to my grave._

Clary bops her head to the beat of the song, and in a brazen act powered by the first day of senior year, she hollers the lyrics out of the window. She looks back at Magnus, grinning.

Magnus laughs, because fuck it. It’s senior year.

He boosts the volume and they yell the lyrics all the way to school.

The locker beside Magnus clangs noisily, and it doesn’t take more than three seconds to realize that it’s Izzy that is slumped next to him.

“Good morning, Izzy.” Magnus says teasingly as he slips his calculus textbook into the unzipped opening of his backpack.

“Tell me I can borrow your graphing calculator.” She pleads in response, “Please, please, please, Magnus.”

“First day back and already falling apart?” Magnus chuckles as he pulls the device from the shelf of his locker and hands it to Izzy’s relieved, awaiting hands, “You better not bring this to practice later or Maia will have your ass.”

“I’m always ready,” Izzy complains, “Just didn’t have enough time to get my shit figured out this morning.”

Magnus looks at Izzy momentarily. “I noticed. Hitched a ride with your brother today? You missed a fun drive to school.” He grins, throat still slightly sore with all the loud singing.

Izzy smiles, but her fingers drum against the spine of the book she’s hugging against her chest. _Interesting_. “Yeah, Alec wanted to grab breakfast at Java Jones before school.”

Magnus can’t help but raise a brow. “At seven in the morning? Before it even opens?” He grabs his Level C1 French Language notes and almost drops it on the floor, some loose paper flying about. He bends down and picks up a few.

“Oh,” Izzy blurts, “It was open, Jordan let us in early. Nothing like insider access!”

“Must be nice.” Magnus smiles as he slips the last of his notes into his backpack. He decides to let it go. He shouldn't be poking around in Alec’s business anyways. 

“Anyway, thank you for the calculator, love you, I’ll give it back after second period!” Izzy beams, giving Magnus a quick hug, before looking past someone behind him. “You ready, Alec?”

Magnus blinks, turns to his right, and peers past his locker door. Alec Lightwood hooks his lock back with a click and twists the knob a couple of times, before readjusting the backpack strap on his shoulder. The hard set on his jaw shows that he’s been listening to the conversation unfolding between Izzy and Magnus, and Magnus wonders if he’s taken offense. Alec finally looks his way, and suddenly Magnus is drowned in green eyes with hazel rings around it.

 _Shit_ , Magnus thinks, has forgotten how mind-numbing those eyes are, but instead he manages to say smoothly, “For someone so tall, you sure move quietly.”

Alec looks at him, slightly confused, but mostly rigidly serious. “Thanks..?”

It makes Magnus laugh. Also, he feels a powerful need to wipe that stern look off his face. “Just an observation.” He says, closing his own locker, and before he completely steps away, he casts Alec another look. “If I wanted to compliment you, I would’ve said something about your beautiful eyes.”

It works. The crease on Alec’s brow lifts and his face contorts into one of embarrassment, color starting to rise into the high points of his cheeks. Magnus can’t help but grin.

“Catch you at practice, Izzy.” 

Magnus walks away, poking Izzy’s on the cheek as he does, and if he has a bit more of a sway to his hips as he does, it’s purely coincidental. 

So, Alec Lightwood is his locker neighbor this year. 

Interesting. 

Izzy’s face looks like she’s about to scream.

She turns to Alec, bug-eyed and vibrating with excitement, the book in his arms squeezed so tightly it was beginning to creak. 

“ _Alec_.” She grits, just about ready to hop on the balls of her feet.

Alec breathes out of his nose. “What.”

“ _Alec!_ ”

Alec is getting annoyed, and that combined with the blatant flirting he’s received at day one of the new school year and day one of wanting to come out, he’s beginning to lose it. “What?!” he hisses.

“ _Magnus was fucking flirting with you!_ ” Izzy squeals, a hand slapping across his arm, “ _That was complete and total flirting!_ ”

“Izzy,” Alec hisses again under his breath as he moves into a smaller bubble of conversation for some modicum of privacy, “I’m not gonna date the first guy that compliments my fucking eyes.”

Izzy presses in, brows bopping up suggestively. “How about the first guy you’ve had a crush on? Would you date that guy? Hmm?”

Alec is starting to blush yet again, and he cannot start his first day of fucking senior year like this. But yeah, that would have been an important piece of information to share. Alec Lightwood has had a quiet, well-hidden crush on Magnus Bane since they met three years ago.

And more importantly—Magnus Bane was how Alec Lightwood realized he was, without a doubt, undeniable gay.

So.. there’s _that_.


	2. Alec Lightwood Is Fucking Pissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guy watches him with interest in his eyes, amusement pulling that pink mouth into a smile. 
> 
> “I’m Magnus.” He says. “I’m Alec.” 
> 
> Alec says automatically. Magnus bites onto his lower lip, trying to stifle a chuckle. “Yes, I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, a semblance if a plot, maybe. But mainly more disastrous baby gay panic. I'm at @cardiamachina on twitter if you want to chat and I post under #nhixxiefic as well!
> 
> Enjoy!

Alec Lightwood is fucking pissed.

He dumps ice into the blender, and if he does it with a little more force than necessary, he doesn’t notice it. 

Hard to notice small nuances in his own actions when he’s too busy glaring out their kitchen window and into their expansive backyard, where Izzy’s new friends and cheer squad teammates have spread out onto their lawn in different states of stretch, completely rendering Alec’s afternoon workout undoable. He’s even told Jace to not come over anymore, because there’s no way he’s going to do his drills in front of a crowd in his own damn home. He’s had enough of that at school. 

Idris is like any other suburban neighborhood in America, and when Maryse Lightwood makes the decision to accept Alicante General Hospital’s job offer, it involves hauling their entire life from the city and moving into a quiet neighborhood just outside it. It means a new school, new teachers, and new classmates, and it’s a gigantic push on a reset button than Alec has been personally blindsided with. The only good thing that comes of it is that he gets to go to the same school as Jace, his childhood best friend whose father is colleagues with his mother in the old hospital they worked at. Stephen Herondale accepted the same job offer from Alicante a year ago. 

Alec jabs his thumb onto the blenderize button on the machine, and it buckles under the pressure of his finger. 

He’d just made the football team as a running back, and today would have been his first chance to work on some cone and ladder drills without the incessant squeals and murmurs of girls in the background. 

Which he doesn’t get. He doesn’t get it at all. Jace _thrives_ on it, puts on a damn show for his audience if anything, running his fingers through his hair over and over again like a fucking lunatic. It makes Alec’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and Jace only waves him away, grinning. And no matter how sour Alec makes his face to be, it doesn’t dissuade the giggling. It makes it even _worse_. 

So yes, he is sour that Izzy has invited his whole cheer team to their house and has taken over his precious solo training time. And Alec has no problem wearing the emotion on his face. 

“Your smoothie’s turning into cream.”

Alec snaps out of it, turns back to the blender in a panic and jabs the off button. He takes the jug off and gives it a shake and finds the consistency undesirable. _Ah, fuck_.

“Just put more ice in it.”

Alec turns to the voice to huffily say _he knows what he’s doing_ , and that _he can blend his drink into cream if he wanted to_ , but the words die down on the tip of his tongue at the sight of him. 

It’s the smile, Alec thinks, as he allows his eyes to sit on a pink mouth for longer than he’s supposed to. And it’s probably his eyes too, Alec thinks again, and his own gaze wanders where his mind goes. And maybe it’s a bit of his biceps that look like they can bench press Alec himself, and okay, jesus christ, he’ll have to look away any moment now—

“Alec, are you okay?” the stranger asks with a small smile, and Alec looks at him, confused.

“How’d you know my name?” Alec manages to ask, and the guy laughs, and damn it, it’s a beautiful sound.

He leans his hip onto the kitchen island, and his elbow on the surface of it. “Izzy introduced you to us when we arrived. But then you marched back into your house in a bit of a huff.” He hums, teasing, “It’s almost like you didn’t want us here.”

“I want you here.” Alec blurts and _burns_ , and he attempts to backtrack, “I mean I want you all here.” A sad-ass lie, one that’s taking a nose-dive, down, down, down—“It’s fine, it’s all fine, I’m fine.” And it crashes into a blazing heap on the ground. 

_Motherfucker_. Alec desperately thinks.

The guy watches him with interest in his eyes, amusement pulling that pink mouth into a smile. “I’m Magnus.” He says.

“I’m Alec.” Alec says automatically.

Magnus bites onto his lower lip, trying to stifle a chuckle. “Yes, I know.”

Alec officially cannot bear this shit anymore. 

“I’m going up to my room.” He says firmly.

There’s a teasing smile on Magnus’ lips, and he raises a brow in jest. “Did you tell me this so I’ll follow..?”

Something in Alec rises like an eagre bearing over the shore, and suddenly, there’s panic in his voice and in his eyes. 

“I’m not—” Alec stutters, eyes blinking onto the floor, fingers digging into the bulk of his hand, “I’m not—” he breathes it out if anything, and it’s a lie, but it’s a face-saving lie that he can’t even say fully, because he’s not ready, and as much as Magnus is making his heart flip in five hundred different ways, he’s just not there yet. 

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, sorry for himself for such defiance of who he is, sorry to Magnus because he’s the receiving end of it.

Alec can sense that Magnus is smart; has a lot of intuition with how he’s carefully looking at him, and understanding, with how he’s softened his eyes like a realization has been made. He smiles at Alec, nods, as if he sees the closet Alec is still struggling with in front of his very eyes. Alec wonders how it feels like to be the kind of free that Magnus represents. 

He wonders if he’ll ever be strong enough for it. 

“I’m sorry for pushing, Alec.” Magnus says gently, “I’ll see you around.”

That was the first conversation Alec Lightwood had with Magnus Bane.

Magnus has kept his distance out of respect of the secret Alec harbours, and Alec has not indulged himself in allowing himself to talk to Magnus more that what circumstance provides. All they’ve shared for most part in a daily basis since then are small looks of acknowledgement across hallways and in passing as they walk. 

Magnus’ looks always say the same thing: _I’m here to help when you’re ready._

It’s then, when Magnus comments about Alec’s beautiful eyes, and looks back at him momentarily as if to gauge his reaction, that he sees it again; a helping hand, an offer for guidance. 

Alec Lightwood slams his gym locker shut, slipping his head through his training jersey and tucking it loosely into his pro-flex pants. He ties his cleats a little bit tighter. 

Maybe it’s time to take the help he’s offered.

The most annoying voice in the universe enters stage left, and even before Alec could realize what he’s saying, he’s already pissed. “So, Lightwood, ready to kick ass this season?” 

He fights the urge to roll his eyes. “Guess so.” He says, straightening up, “How’s your summer, Raj?”

Raj smirks, and _god_ does Alec regret even asking. “Went with Stella’s family to the cabin, got some time to ourselves with everybody out fishing.” He waggles his brows and _jesus_ , Alec is going to physically vomit— “ _Fuck_ it’s good to get some.”

Raj raises his hand for a high five and Alec frowns at it, turning away to walk out of the locker room instead. He hears Raj’s laugh echo from not far behind, as he jogs to keep up with his brisk walk. 

“Haven’t changed one bit, huh, Lightwood?” Raj teases as he claps a hand on his shoulder and Alec hates the full second his hand made contact with his body, “You need to have a good fuck, my man! Maybe you’ll be less tightly wound.”

“I’d rather be tightly wound than have my dick in somebody I barely like.” Alec says bluntly, and it surprises the hell out of Raj. _Or have somebody’s dick in me_ , Alec thinks, but in no way will Raj be the first person he’s coming out to.

He snickers as they walk out of the building and into the walkway leading towards the football field. “Damn Lightwood, I didn’t think you have it in you!”

Alec feels hot air out of his nose. “Then you thought wrong.”

“No girl in this entire school making your dick wet?” Raj drawls coolly and ugh, why, why must Alec endure this conversation, “Literally every girl in my chemistry class has the hots for you. I’m sure I can make something happen.”

“Not interested.” Alec answers curtly, looking left and right before crossing the track that hugs the perimeter of the field, “Thanks for your concern.”

Raj misses the sarcasm and claps him on the shoulder again. “No problem, my man.” He says, jogging past Alec and turning back as he does, “Find yourself a girl, Lightwood. It’s senior year, window of opportunity’s closing.” He gives him a wink. 

“People might start thinking you like dudes.” Raj snickers, holding his belly as he does, “See you out there, vice captain.”

Alec stumbles to a stop, breathing. 

He doesn’t know what he feels.

He feels Izzy come up to his side.

“Alec?” she whispers, fingers on his arm, “What was that all about?”

Alec breathes in, out. In, out.

“Nothing.” He says.

He walks towards his team.

Magnus watches as Izzy makes the walk back to their side of the field, and there’s a peculiarly concerned look on her face as she does.

He’s always prided himself in his intuition, how precisely he’s able to read a room, or a person. And the Lightwoods have been giving him strong nudges towards one specific direction, towards one possible event. He doesn’t say anything, of course. It’s not his business, and Alec Lightwood has made it clear that his business is to stay his own indefinitely. But Magnus thinks there’s a shift in the universe, and there’s something different in the air. And it’s all boiling down to the Lightwood that is just marching towards the center of the field, his shoulder the most tense line of muscle he’s ever seen.

“Everything okay, Izzy?” Magnus asks gently, and it just about wakes the younger Lightwood from her worried trance. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” She quips, nodding quickly. 

“Okay.” Magnus says, “I’m here if you need anything.”

She must know what Magnus knows at that very moment, because her eyes soften, and she looks at him so helplessly that it’s hard to imagine this is the same Isabelle Lightwood who punched a guy right in the jaw without even flinching for coming onto Clary. Her eyes flicker to her hands momentarily, like she’s trying to weigh her options, but ultimately, she meets Magnus’ gaze.

“When you came out,” Izzy mutters, because for sure Magnus knows after that little incident with him and Alec the first time they met, “What did you need? From the people around you?”

Magnus presses his lips together, takes a couple of steps towards her. “Just be there.” He says, “I didn’t need much, because most of it I found within myself.”

Magnus is brought back to the moment of it all—the middle of a teeming cafeteria, his entire team enveloping him from all direction as they sat in their usual table, encouraging smiles on their lips. He remembers the sound the soles of his boots make on the surface table as he climbs on top of it, and the quiet murmurs that simmer like a pot coming to a boil. He remembers his exact words— _Can I have everybody’s attention! I’m fucking bi!_ —and the resounding cheers and laughter that splits the whole school’s consensus about his revelation. And it doesn’t matter whether the jeers are loud, because it’s unrecognizable with the chorus that his own heart sings. 

Magnus breathes out. “When I came out I was ready.” He says, an allusion to the situation Izzy is so clearly talking about without needing to, “So whatever happened afterwards didn’t matter, because I knew that being able to live as who I am is the point. Everything else outside that are just _things_. All of which I can live with, good or bad.”

“But having people around me who cares,” he finishes, “Who doesn’t fully know the shit I’m going through, but tries to understand. Who says the right things, and also knows when words aren’t needed—it makes a difference.”

And Magnus goes for it, because there are no secrets now, not with this conversation that they just had, “That’s all he needs from you.” He says softly, “Everything else is him.” 

Magnus peers into Izzy’s eyes. “So let him.” 

“Okay,” Izzy nods, and if her voice slightly chokes, she hides it exceptionally well, “Thank you, Magnus.”

“All good.” he smiles, throwing an arm around her shoulder, “Just take it easy on me when we get to the lifts.” He sighs, “I slacked off with the workouts this summer.”

Izzy snickers. “I’m sure you can lift any Lightwood you want over your head.”

Magnus rolls his eyes, because of course Izzy’s already setting up his still closeted brother. “I’ll stick with you for now.”

“Alec, where the hell have you been?” Jace exclaims, and he brings him into a brief but tight hug, “Something must be wrong with the world for Alec Lightwood to be last to arrive for practice.”

“Ms. Rouse held onto us for fifteen extra minutes.” Alec mutters, a hand laying against Jace’s back before pulling away.

“And we had a bit of a heart-to-heart in the locker room, huh, vice captain?” Raj grins, and some how he has his girlfriend tucked under his arm, giggling.

Alec narrows his eyes. _I fucking hate the straights_.

Jace’s turns to Alec, frowning. “Is he giving you a hard time?”

“Who’s giving who a hard time?” comes another voice, and it’s Simon, jogging towards their direction, a concerned look in his eyes.

“Raj to Alec.” Jace says, brow still creased.

“What?” Simon exclaims, scandalized, and Jace throws him a silencing look, “Why?” he asks, voice hushed, “Why does he always pick on you for not dating anyone?”

Alec scoffs under his breath. “Bhandari will never pick on me, because what he does doesn’t have any effect on my life whatsoever.”

Jace smirks. “So just being a dick?”

Alec almost laughs. “Full on.” He says, looking at both Simon and Jace, “I’m fine. Really.”

Simon smiles. “Then let’s ignore him like we always do.”

Jace nods amicably before turning to his team. Alec settles onto the grass, placing his legs into a deep stretch. 

“Okay assholes! Annual first practice of the school year tradition, truth or dare!” Jace calls out, grinning from ear-to-ear, and the whole team cheers in response. Even Alec can’t help but smile, shaking his head fondly.

“And because I’m the captain, I volunteer to go first.” He places his hands on his hips expectantly, “Truth or dare me losers!”

“Truth or dare, cap!” Andrew hollers from the back, and Jace grins at him, pointing a finger at his direction to acknowledge him. 

“Truth, Underhill!” he hollers back.

Andrew grins. “Is Fray ever gonna go for you in this life time?”

Jace points at Andrew again, lips pursed. “Dare!” he sputters, and the entire team roars into laughter. Alec _pffts_ right into his hands, and it takes everything in his power not to burst out laughing. 

“Drink Simon’s backwash!” Raphael calls out, and Simon’s already untwisting the cap of his water bottle, grinning widely.

“Clarywillnevergoformebecauseshefindsmeannoying!” Jace mumbles, and even before the whole team can even start laughing at his admittance, he points back to Andrew, yelling, “Truth or dare!”

“Dare me!” he challenges, getting up to his feet and jumping on the balls of it.

“Lick a teammate’s face.” Alec calls out, smirking, and Jace looks back at him wide-eyed.

“Shit, that’s good!” Jace snickers, “Do that!”

“Ugh, vice-cap, really?” Andrew makes a vomiting noise, “Nobody here washes their face with an actual cleanser, you know that, right?”

Raphael rolls his eyes. “Speak for yourself.”

“Oh, so you do?” Andrew asks, already reaching out for Raphael’s face with a suggestive grin, “C’mere then, Santiago.”

Raphael looks at him, wide-eyed, as he scrambles onto his feet, “No, no, no, get the fuck away from me Underhill—” 

“It’s you or no one!”

Raphael sprints in horror and Andrew runs after him like a jaguar onto a gazelle, and the whole team is crumpled onto the grass, fat drops of tears gathering in the corners of their eyes as they laugh the loudest they’ve ever laughed in a long time. Finally, Raphael side-steps in hopes of diverting Andrew’s attention, but he just crashes into the other’s awaiting arms, and in Raphael’s absolute mortification, he gets a long, wet stripe licked up his cheek.

A long, disgusted _uuugh_ rises from the heap of athletes lying on the grass, and even Alec cringes at the sight of it, chuckling under his breath. Jesus christ, they’re children, all of them. And no matter how stupid they all are, Alec would be liar if he says he doesn’t love them. 

“Vice-cap, your turn. Truth or dare?”

Alec blinks up to Raphael Santiago who’s wiping his face a fourth time. He blinks again, digests the question. _Truth or dare_. Alec feels a boulder drop on his stomach. _Fuck_.

“Uh,” he just about stutters, because he can’t say truth, not right now, he’s not fucking ready, he just decided he would come out literally two months ago and a game of truth or dare isn’t what he had in mind— “Uh,”

“Come on Lightwood, it’s one or the other,” Raj grins, and there’s an almost feral way in they way he does, and it makes Alec’s skin crawl with actual _fear_ —does he know, will he out him, will he take away the one thing that Alec knows should be his—

“Dare.” Alec says, throat dry.

“I have a dare.” Raj says loudly, as if to make sure every single person in the team can hear, and his fucking girlfriend Stella Johnson giggles in his arms, and Alec feels like he’s going to fucking hurl, “Kiss someone in the cheer squad.” 

The team _ooooohhhhs_ and wolf whistles pierce the evening air. Raj looks at Alec, but there’s no challenge there, just a small smirk and a small wink, as if he’s doing Alec the biggest favor. The words come back to him almost immediately. _Find yourself a girl, Lightwood_. 

Anger pushes into his chest like an eagre bearing over the shore.

_It’s senior year._

Alec looks down to find his fingers trembling in the fists its formed. He looks up at Jace, then at Simon, and finds that they’re the only one not grinning. Of course they know. How could they not? Simon he’s been friends with for the last three years. Jace he’s been friends with for as long as he can even remember. They don’t need to be told; they just _know_.

“You don’t have to do it, Alec.” Jace says quietly, and Raj looks at him like he’s deluded.

“Aw, come on cap, that’s not how it works!” Raj whines, and voices of agreement rise from the team, “Truth or dare, it’s team building! And besides, about time we find Lightwood a girl.”

Jace seem to inflate with white hot anger. “Shut the f—”

Simon places a hand on his chest, whispering into his ear. It seems to calm Jace down. “You can’t just go up there and kiss someone who doesn’t want to be kissed, Raj, that’s sexual assault.” He says, frowning down at him.

“Who says there’s no one wanting to be kissed?” Stella, fucking Stella Johnson decides she’s got the right to quip with a grin, “I know for a fact Jessica Navarro would give up an arm and a leg to make out with you, Alec.” She says innocently, “You can ask her.”

Alec can’t even parse through the heavy feeling that’s squeezing his lungs and tamping down his heart. All he knows is he can’t bear it, and he’s drowning with it. 

“Come on, Lightwood,” Raj grins, leaning towards Alec’s direction, “Window of opportunity’s closing.”

Alec doesn’t know why, but it’s those words that takes that tightly knotted string in his chest and unravels it completely. He looks up at Raj wordlessly, holds his eyes as he pushes himself up to his feet, and starts the long walk towards the cheer squad’s practice area.

“Alec, don’t.” Jace says, and he tries to push back the desperation in his voice, but it leeches through.

“It’s fine.” Alec mutters crossly.

He walks on. 

“Uh, Izzy,” Clary huffs as she lands on her feet after coming off a cradle catch, “Why is your brother coming this way?”

Izzy’s head whips back, eyes curious. “I don’t know.”

“What were they doing?” Magnus asks, remembering the incessant howl of laughter erupting from center field while they were warming up.

“Annual start of the year truth or dare.” Izzy answers slowly, brow still creased, her red-stained lips pressed into a tight line, “Jace came up with it.”

Even from far away, they could all hear the whistling and jeers of _get it Lightwood_ form the circle of bodies sitting on the grass, and again, Magnus feels something squeeze his gut like a knowing I told you so. He turns to fully face Alec, really looks, and finds that his trajectory is headed straight for where he’s standing. The more distance he cuts away between the two of them, the clearer the picture gets—Alec’s eyes, the same mind-numbing one he’s thought of quite fondly the past three years, are bearing onto his. 

Izzy is on the same train of thought. She stands off to the side, looking at Alec and then at Magnus, her expression shifting visibly from one of confusion to a staggering realization. Her hand finds her mouth, covering the slack-jawed ‘o’ it forms. 

“Fuck,” she mutters, “ _Holy fuck_ ,” she says again, louder now, and she steps off to the side, because she’s sure Alec would appreciate a little bit of distance from his sister with what’s about to happen. 

Magnus breathes, takes a couple of steps forward, and finally, Alec Lightwood, awful-smoothie-blender Alec Lightwood, green eyes with hazel rings around them Alec Lightwood, stands before him.

He looks like he’s halfway between anger and nervousness. Something must have happened in that little game. He looks down at Magnus, and now that he’s seeing him and only him, the rage curbs, making way for more uneasiness.

“Hey,” Alec is breathless, a small, worried crease on his brow. His tongue swipes concernedly over his bottom lip, and Magnus watches as his mouth shines splendidly. 

Magnus smiles. “What can I do for you, Alec?”

There’s a momentary pause, a final thinking through of this thing Alec is going to say, and Magnus sees the calculations in his eyes. Alec has always been methodical, sensible. But what he’s going to do is anything but.

“Alec?” Magnus asks again, softly, and it snaps Alec out of it.

He finally asks what he means to ask. “Can I kiss you?”

Magnus has never quite heard Alec’s words come out that way. His voice has been contorted into a soft, pleading whisper of a tone, and it points back to a feeling Magnus has felt during one point in his life—the day he came out. He remembers the jeers, the laughter, but it didn’t matter, because his teammates had been the solid wall around him, shielding him from noise, a steadying force. Magnus realizes that Alec doesn’t have that. All he has is Izzy, maybe Jace, maybe Simon, all of who are distances away,

And him. Standing right in front of him. His only shield. 

Some time must have passed, because Alec starts fiddling with the hem of his jersey, profuse embarrassment starting to fill the lines of his face. Magnus feels the overwhelming urge to stop it.

“If it’s not—” Alec stammers, frowning down onto his hands, “You don’t have to—can you forget I ever asked that, please—” 

“Alec.” Magnus says, cutting his panic short. He smiles up at him, and takes a couple more steps forward. 

Magnus takes Alec’s trembling hands, places them flush against his chest, and there the fingers curl against his uniform like it’s always wanted to do so and now its been given the chance. 

“Breathe.” Magnus whispers, and Alec nods, pink lips parting to allow air through, “That’s it.”

“I’m not gonna be good.” he whispers back.

Magnus hums, taking another step forward, and they’re so close they’re sharing the oxygen between them. “You start the dance. Then I’ll take over and lead.”

Alec nods again, and his breath catches.

“Hey.” Magnus says, a hand fluttering onto Alec’s side, and Alec focuses on the wells of honey illuminated by the setting sun behind him.

Magnus gives him a proud grin, and then winks. 

“Show ‘em.”

Alec’s mouth quirks upwards, and actual _smile_ breaking through his eternal scowl, and with Magnus permission tucked soundly within his chest, he pulls Magnus bodily against him and catches his mouth into a kiss.

It is how Alec says it would be. 

A rocky start, just lips pressed against lips, slotted oddly. He shifts a little against his mouth as if to doubt himself, but Magnus feels Alec’s heart through it. It’s urgent, a leap to freedom. It’s a jump off a cliff not knowing what awaits below. Magnus wants Alec to know that there’s something brilliant and blue waiting to catch him as he falls. So he opens up, gently places his lips against Alec’s where it ought to be, as if to say _like this_. He licks softly against the small parting of his lips, as if to say _you’ll be alright_.

A stuttered breath escapes Alec’s mouth and Magnus takes it for himself, and with that one exhale he opens, allows Magnus’ mouth to hug the curves that makes his lips, pushing gently, tongues grazing softly. Magnus leads and Alec follows, and he soon finds that with everything Alec does, he’s a quick study.

It seems to go on and on and on but not nearly long enough; soon Magnus is caught in the undertow that is Alec’s mouth moving against his, and where Alec goes he follows, with a lick in the mouth and a nip of the lip. And Alec, the cheeky bastard that he is as Magnus finds out, moves back just as Magnus gives chase, and both of them quirk a small, knowing smile before finding a point between them to meet their lips once more. 

They end up faltering apart, Alec’s fingers now soft against Magnus’ shirt, and Magnus’ finding itself pressed against the line of Alec’s jaw. 

“I’m gay.” He says, breathless but proud, and it makes Magnus’ heart soar. 

Magnus grins slightly. “You don’t say.”

Alec laughs, and _jesus christ_ , Magnus thinks, awestruck.

“Now go tell _them_.” Magnus says, pointing a finger towards his team’s direction. 

“Thank you.” Alec says, and he means it, “Thanks for everything.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure.” Magnus smiles contentedly, and even after making out in public, Alec still blushes at the words. 

_Shit._

“See you around, Magnus.” He says, a small smile on his lips.

“See you around, Alec.”

Alec steps back, putting distance between them once more, and before he fully walks towards his teammates, he opens his arms and receives a massive embrace from his sister who clings to him with as much pride as he has towards himself. He kisses the top of her head, lets her go, and when Izzy comes back to Magnus, she’s sniffing.

“Are you gonna be his boyfriend now?” Izzy asks, wiping tears from his eyes, “Because I would love that.”

Magnus chuckles, throwing an arm over her shoulder as they walk back to an entire team who’s wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

“I think it’s time for a break.” Magnus tells Maia, who blinks awake from the trance she’s in.

“Go for fifteen.”

Alec settles to a stop, and he looks at his teammates.

“I’m gay.” Alec _finally_ says, shoulders shrugging, brow creased with nervousness. “Since forever. I’ve only ever been completely sure three years ago.”

There’s only silence, and Alec refuses to really look at their faces and read their expressions. He can’t. He can’t bear it.

“And if anybody has a problem with that, I don’t care.” Alec says firmly.

He turns to Jace and Simon, and he’s sorrowful. “I wanted to tell you guys first. I really did.” He mutters, “I just—I’m sorry.”

Alec turns and walks off the field.


	3. Alec Lightwood is Fucking Confused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Permission to tackle anyone who makes a gay joke about you?” Simon asks too happily as they start to walk again, and it makes Alec laugh for the first time in what he felt like is a while.
> 
> “Not if I do it first.” Alec chuckles.
> 
> “Atta boy.” Jace grins, pulling him forward with an arm around his shoulders, “Come on, Magnus is waiting.”
> 
> Alec just about chokes. “Wait what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, a lot of fumbling around and trying not to get caught staring, and maybe a bit of drama. Barely a plot! I'm @cardiamachina on twitter and post under #nhixxiefic as well.
> 
> Enjoy!

It spreads like fucking wildfire. 

Stella Johnson (fucking _Stella Johnson_ ) runs her mouth and so does Jessica Navarro, but so does the marching band getting high by the bleachers, and in addition to that the entire track team. Soon enough the fact that Alec Lightwood—gorgeous Alec Lightwood, vice captain of the football team, valedictorian to be—is gay has descended over Idris High like a thick fog that won’t let up. 

And Alec Lightwood is honestly confused.

Not because of how much interest other people have over his life, but by the fact that he doesn’t quite know what to feel about other people having this information like it’s something they now own. 

It’s a stupid way to feel, he thinks, because he had wanted to come out, undoubtedly. He’s methodically thought through every single thing that could happen after he does, and he’s decided a long time ago that all the potential consequences that would arise is moot. Whatever it is, he’ll deal with it; he’s long accepted there is a cost to being free.

Which is why he doesn’t understand the feeling sitting squarely on his chest. It’s a small pressure, a heaviness that presses on the center of his heart while everything else is filled with relief. It oddly feels like loss, and he almost chastises himself for it. _You don’t get to feel that_ , he finds himself thinking as he stares down his bowl of cereal the next morning, _you didn’t lose anything_

“Second day of school and already causing so much commotion.” Izzy grins from her side of the kitchen island, spoon swirling into a bowl of oatmeal, “Didn’t think you’d be such a shit stirrer.”

Alec rolls his eyes, fond. “Shut up.”

Izzy’s grin softens into a smile. “I can’t believe you’ve come out, Alec.”

Alec breathes, scooping a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “Honestly? Me too.”

Izzy shifts on her feet, and her smile grows teasingly. “I definitely didn’t think Magnus was such a big part of your plan.”

Alec feels heat crawl up his neck. “It wasn’t a plan.” He answers defensively, mumbling, “It was.. a last-minute decision.”

“No shame,” Izzy’s smile comes back to the grin it once was, “If I was going to come out by kissing someone to prove a point, I would kiss the guy I’ve been pining for for the last three years.”

“Izzy, _please_.” Alec groans, and Izzy snickers.

He makes a meal of dunking his spoon into his bowl, shovelling cereal and milk into his mouth. “I really don’t want to go to school today.” He says after a swallow. 

Izzy sighs small, mulling the situation over. “One way or another you’ll have to hear the mumbling and bear the looks.” she gently says, “Just get it over with. The rumour mill will churn some garbage soon enough, and before you know it, nobody’s looking at you all weird.”

Alec presses his lips together. “You have a point.”

Izzy flicks him a bit of oatmeal, teasing. “Why do you sound so surprised?” she chortles, before humming around a question. “Have you talked to Jace and Simon yet?”

Alec’s eyes focus on a spot on the marbled counter, spoon tapping aimlessly over the rim of his bowl. “No, not yet.” He murmurs, “They’re supportive about it, but they’re giving me some space. Trying not to choke me, I guess.”

“Is that good?” Izzy asks, peering into Alec’s down-casted eyes. 

“Yeah, I appreciate it.” Alec says under his breath, “I just don’t know how to talk about it with them. I barely know how to talk to myself about all this.” 

“Have you talked to Magnus?” Izzy asks, and panic spikes up Alec’s spine. 

“Why?” he blurts out, back straight, spoon clattering, “Do I need to? Did he want to?” he coughs, “Talk?”

Izzy’s brow raises as she says slowly, “I was just going to say he probably can give you some advice on how to go about all this.”

“Oh,” Alec shrugs, picks up his spoon, “Yeah, maybe I can.. do that.” 

“Holy shit.” She laughs breathlessly as she shakes her head in wondrous disbelief, “You’re so fucking whipped.”

Alec doesn’t say anything as much as he almost flees to his car, saying some shit about being late to school, Izzy’s snicker ghosting over his shoulder.

He hasn’t thought about that last night. 

He can deal with the whispers and the stares from everybody else, but trying to initiate small talk with Magnus by their lockers after making out with him in front of the entire school—

He might as well be swallowed back into the damn closet.

Alec, with a shaky exhale, puts his car on park. 

He fingers find its way across his face, passing a nervous swipe of the palm against his eyes. 

Even just the sight of his car pulling into the first available parking space turns the heads of people meandering around the lot. He sees the small whispers they exchange, and nothing registers as malicious or jeering, but the stares makes the back of his neck prickle anxiously. The murmurs are tamped down by the sealed barrier made by his vehicle, but he fears what he’s going to hear when he does open his car door. 

_Come on Lightwood_ , he thinks to himself, and he remembers what Magnus tells him that afternoon, when his fingers clung to handfuls of Magnus’ shirt, and they were breathing the same air. _Show ‘em._

Alec can’t help the little puff of a laugh that escaped his lips. With that he steps out of his car and closes the door shut to the safety of it.

He slings his backpack onto a shoulder and falters into a walk.

It isn’t bad to begin with. 

But the further he gets from his spot and the more he crosses the lot, the murmurs rise like an overeager tide, once licking at his ankles and now surrounding his chest. Alec keeps his eyes forward, almost glares at the entrance to the school building, and he feels like running towards it but he realizes that inside awaits the same fucking thing. More, if anything, voices more concentrated and bodies in closer proximity as everything is squeezed within the small hallways. His heart picks up in protest to everything that is happening, air leaving his lungs faster than he can corral it in; he’s only halfway through the parking lot and he _fucking hates it already_ and feels the sudden urge to turn and just run away—

He feels a tug on his elbow.

“Morning.” Jace murmurs from his right as he falls into a brisk walk beside him, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Alec almost stutters. “Morning,” he almost asks, because Jace doesn’t get to school until eight thirty and he never shows up earlier than that.

“Hey Alec,” Simon quips from his left, and when Alec looks at him, he’s grinning his usual grin. 

“It’s early for you guys.” Alec says confusedly, slowing to a stop.

Jace falters in his steps, and he and Simon have to look over their shoulders to throw their reassuring gazes back. 

“You shouldn’t make this first walk through the school alone.” He says quietly, “Sorry if we’re overbearing.” 

Simon only smiles, shrugging, as if to say _what he said_. 

Alec’s face softens, the crease on his brow lifting minutely, and dare he say his lips quirk into a small, gentle smile. “You’re not overbearing,” he almost croaks because there’s a lump on his throat and Alec _hates it_ , “Thanks.” He adds, passing a hand across his eyes again. 

“Permission to tackle anyone who makes a gay joke about you?” Simon asks too happily as they start to walk again, and it makes Alec laugh for the first time in what he felt like is a while.

“Not if I do it first.” Alec chuckles.

“Atta boy.” Jace grins, pulling him forward with an arm around his shoulders, “Come on, Magnus is waiting.”

Alec just about chokes. “Wait _what_?”

Alec is still a blubbering mess by the time they make the whole walk through the hallways and to his locker. 

It may have been a blessing in disguise, because the thought of people talking about him is nothing more than a little pinprick of a problem compared to the fact that _Magnus_ is waiting for him by their lockers for reasons unknown. He barely noticed anything around him as Jace and Simon pushed him forward by the elbows, stumbling like a baby deer. 

When Magnus’ locker closes with a metallic clang, he’s smiling at him. _Alec hates it_.

“So?” he asks warmly, “How’s your first morning as an openly gay guy?”

Alec opens his mouth, only to find he doesn’t quite know what to say. “You guys talked?” he blurts out confusedly, a finger going back and forth between Jace, Simon, and Magnus.

“After you walked off the field, I approached Jace and Simon.” Magnus says, voice dropping down a couple of notches in volume, “It’s probably not my place, I know, but it’s hard to know what to do as loved ones when somebody’s coming out.” He says with so much sincerity it feels like a punch in Alec’s chest.

“I hope that’s okay.” He adds, a sudden nervousness in his voice that Alec hasn’t heard on someone like Magnus, “I just wanted to help.”

If Alec hadn’t known what to say before, he most definitely doesn’t know what to say now. Magnus not only agreed to help him come out, but also followed up with his closest friends to advise them what they could do to make him feel supported. Alec’s brain seems to have short-circuited.

“Why would you do that for me?” Alec asks, purely confused, because why would he? Alec is completely inconsequential in Magnus’ life. 

Magnus smiles, gentle and sweet, and the feeling of it is like a hammock gently lulling Alec to sleep. “I told you before, when you’re ready, I’m here to help. I meant that, Alec.”

 _Shit_ , Alec thinks, and he watches as Magnus’ smile piques into a teasing grin.

“And help isn’t just making out in a field. Though that was the most pleasant helping hand I’ve ever extended.”

 _Jesus fucking christ_ , Alec thinks helplessly, and he doesn’t need to look over his shoulder to know that Jace and Simon have shit-eating grins on their faces. 

“Anyways, I should head off.” Magnus says, then looks at the two grinning fools in question. “You got him?”

Jace tries not to sound so eager at the situation. “Yeah, we got him.”

“Okay.” Magnus says contentedly, “See you around, crinkles.” 

Alec watches Magnus walk away, confused. “Crinkles?” he asks, and Simon places a hand over his mouth.

“Aww, he’s talking about the lines on your eyes when you laugh.” He says softly, eyes big. 

“Aww, Alec,” Jace snickers, chin on Alec’s shoulder, “How cute.”

Alec seethes as he nudges Jace off his shoulder.

“I fucking hate you two.”

Magnus settles into his seat as he plops his backpack beside his chair.

He rummages through it for his text book, some loose leaf, and a pen, and before he can even look up, Clary slips into the seat next to him with an expectant look on her face.

“Well?” she asks in a hushed voice, “How was it?”

Magnus looks back at her, an eyebrow quirked. “How was what?”

“Alec!” she whispers, eyes shining, “At the lockers! Everything!”

Magnus shrugs, flipping through the pages for the chapter on integrals, “It was fine.”

“That’s it?” Clary murmurs, crestfallen, her shoulders sagging at the thought, “I don’t believe you.”

Magnus finally finds the right page and sets his pen and paper over it as he mutters, “Biscuit, why would I lie to you?”

“Magnus this is _Alec Lightwood_.” She moves into his space, voice dropping in volume, “The guy you’ve been giving small, encouraging smiles to every time you cross paths? And you’re telling me you’ve kissed and had a conversation by the lockers the day after and the only thing you can say about it is that _it’s fine_?”

Magnus breathes, the pad of his finger running up and down the width of his text book, the pages catching against the ridges of it.

“I just wanted to help him.” Magnus says softly, “I know what it’s like being in the closet, and he was so alone. I’ve helped him come out, and now I’m helping him find his footing.” 

He says the next words and even he doesn’t believe it. “That’s all there is to it.”

“Do you think he likes you?” Clary asks under her breath, “I mean, he kissed _you_ , right?”

Magnus shakes his head slightly, smiling small, and he tries to look less dejected as he feels. “I would’ve been his only choice.”

“Sebastian Verlac’s gay and was running on the track with the track team that day.” Clary points out, “Alec still chose you.”

 _Cheer squad, it needed to be a member of the cheer squad_ , Magnus thinks wistfully, and decides not to grace Clary’s last point with an answer at the risk of sounding too forlorn. He feels Clary’s sympathetic grip on his arm before she fully turns towards the board as Ms. Rollins enters the classroom. He smiles small.

Either way, the point still stands. 

Whatever Magnus and Alec are playing at, it’s not real.

The earlier Magnus realizes that, the better.

Alec glares up from his sandwich, and by the time his gaze lands, the girls across him has already whipped their heads back. One of them pretends to twirl a long lock of hair around her fingers, as if to say _gossip, what gossip, I would never_. The other tries to looks at her phone in concentrated interest.

Alec plops his sandwich back onto his tray with a little more force than necessary. 

“Alec,” Jace warns through a mouthful of fries, “Freshmen will literally cry over anything.”

Alec fumes. “So?”

Jace shakes his head. “You don’t want to make girls cry on the second day of school.”

“They already are.” Lydia snorts, as she stabs her salad with a fork, “Apparently Jessica Navarro is wailing about how it should’ve been her and not Magnus.”

“Her and Stella Johnson need to buy a fucking clue.” Jace snorts, “I can’t stand them both.”

“Then why do we still have Stella Johnson sit in on practices?” Lydia demands, “If I hear her annoying-ass giggle one more time I’m gonna burn this entire school down.”

Alec can’t help but smirk, pinning a laugh on the roof of his mouth. There’s a reason why he loves Lydia, and this is exactly why. There’s one way of delivering a thought, and there’s Lydia’s way.

Simon, the softie that he is, pouts slightly. “Poor Jessica. With Magnus breathing the same space as her, she didn’t stand a chance.”

Alec’s breath catches silently in his throat as it usually does with the mention of Magnus’ name. It’s disastrous and frankly fucking annoying and he wants it to stop, but the warmth it deposits deep into his chest—that he’d like to keep. But Simon is right. Magnus has a horrible way of tunneling Alec’s vision, narrowing it down until he’s in the epicenter of it all and everything else is drowned in darkness. Jessica Navarro could’ve jumped up and down, screaming at the top of her lungs, and Alec wouldn’t have noticed or cared. It would’ve been Magnus, completely. 

Simon’s brows bump up, a gleeful grin on his face as he mutters, “Speaking of which.”

Something crackles down Alec’s spine like a clap of lightning even before he looks up to see what fuzz is about. Maia, Clary, Izzy, walks into the cafeteria in a whirl of laughter, most of the cheer squad trailing behind them. Alec could see Magnus stick out from the sea of faces, crescent moon eyes and pink lips pulled into a musical laugh, and already everything else blurs. 

Alec’s breath catches again and he blinks down a moment, and when he looks up again already Magnus is looking away, a small smile on his lips as he casts it down onto his nice shoes. 

“Wow.” Lydia whistles, “If all high school boys dressed like that, maybe I would spare a second look.”

“What’s wrong with hoodies?” Jace defensively asks.

“Or band shirts?” Simon chimes in.

Lydia rolls her eyes. “The fact you two have to ask that proves my point.”

Alec doesn’t say anything, eyes catching at the deep V created by the neckline of Magnus’ button up. He tears his eyes away even before anybody could deign comment on it because _jesus_ he simply won’t survive the roast.

“Anyways, I can see why you like him, Alec.” Lydia says brightly, “You guys look cute together.”

Alec doesn’t know what to do, so he flips his sandwich on its wrapper. “What do you mean?”

Lydia grins, “As far as first boyfriends go, he’s quite the catch.”

Alec knows the immediate, unwavering importance of not losing his absolute shit at this moment. _Play it cool, Lightwood. Don’t be an idiot_. “We’re not together.” He says, and his voice only wobbles minutely. 

Okay, he’ll take it.

“Yet.” Simon quips, and it earns him a hardened look from Alec’s general direction.

Lydia has always been naturally strategic; a core member of the school’s chess team who has found aptitude in making plays for the football team as well. And the way she’s bearing her gaze into him, Alec feels like he’s being analyzed down to his very last cell. Alec loves Lydia, but damn does he hate it when she does this.

“Lyds, quit it.” Alec mumbles, frowning. 

“Yeah, sorry,” she says, blinking, then adding, “Just don’t wait too long.”

They finish their lunch with fifteen minutes to spare, and Alec can’t bear the complete chaos that is the second day of school compounded by all the looks he’s getting form every other person in the room. Lydia suggests they all decide to hang back at the bleachers until class starts. Alec urges the others to go ahead as he walks through the empty halls for the vending machine, and he’s punching in the code to a can of coke when a voice quips behind him.

“A bit too much for day one?” 

Alec whips back and finds Sebastian Verlac standing behind him, hands in his pockets. Still weird to hear an English accent in Idris High, to be honest. He smiles at him, blue eyes shining.

“Day one of what?” Alec asks curiously, as he bends down to fish his drink from the slot below.

“Being out.” Sebastian says as Alec moves out of his way so he can use the machine. Sebastian chuckles as he drops coins into it. “Exhausting, isn’t it?”

Alec can’t help but smile a little. “Yeah. People are annoying.” He cracks his drink open and takes a sip.

“Annoyed but happy.” Sebastian laughs, eyes glazed in remembrance, “Quite the combination. But we could’ve had it worse.”

Alec presses his lips together, teeth biting on the inside of his cheek. It’s true. Everything else about who he is has made his coming out easy—he’s white, cis, financially stable. Other people don’t have the luxury, or even the right. To be annoyed but still be happy is the best-case scenario. So why the hell does he feel like he’s lost something?

“Did you ever feel sad?” Alec mumbles, brow creased, fingers gripping his can tighter, “When you came out?”

Sebastian looks at him, turns his body fully so he’s angled towards Alec completely. “Of course. Sometimes.”

“I’m glad I get to be myself,” Alec says under his breath, and when he says the next words guilt weighs down his voice even more, “But sometimes I feel like something died.”

Sebastian takes a moment and looks at him, really looks, before softly answering. “Coming out is giving a part of yourself to everyone else, Alec. What was only yours before, fully, completely, secretly, is now part-everyone’s else’s.”

“And it’s frightening.” Sebastian admits, “The most protected part of you that you’ve kept hidden for the longest time is now in the hands of others, and that they can do with it what they please.”

“And some people will be assholes, admittedly.” Sebastian chuckles, shaking his head, “But some people will be kind. And some people will be so kind they’ll give you advice for free.”

It makes Alec laugh. Sebastian’s a decent guy. He shrugs, a hand in a pocket, a small smile on his face. “What can I do in return?”

“Ah.” Sebastian’s fingers play at the surface of his drink, smiling somewhat sheepishly. “Well, I would’ve loved to have coffee with you, but I think you’re well accounted for.”

And it’s that reference to that _one person_ again that sends a special kind of panic through Alec’s veins, and it’s infuriating. He just wants to think about Magnus and be fucking okay with it, but apparently that’s too much to ask from himself. 

“We’re not together.” Alec blurts out, and he almost winces at the suddenness of it. His tongue swipes onto his lower lip nervously.

Sebastian looks slightly confused. “Why not? Wasn’t that why you kissed him?”

Alec feels unfathomable gross saying the words, but it’s the truth. “It was to prove a point.” He admits, and his throat hurts at the admittance, “And he was too nice to say no.”

“But do you like him?” Sebastian asks gently, and Alec doesn’t know why he’s divulging so much to a complete stranger, but Sebastian is empathetic, and in all honesty, kind. He feels safe. 

_Yes. For the last three years, I’ve liked him. Like a fucking idiot, I’ve liked him_. 

Alec doesn’t want to say the words to an almost stranger, so he mutters instead as he blinks down at his drink, “He’s too good for me.”

Sebastian actually laughs. “I’m sorry for laughing, Alec, I really am,” he breathes, a small chuckle tumbling out of his mouth, “But people aren’t better than other people. Just different.”

The bell rings and just like that, they’re fifteen minutes of free time is up. The halls start to rumble.

“It was nice talking to you.” Sebastian says, smiling kindly, “And if you still think you shouldn’t pursue the guy you like because you think you don’t deserve him, then please, give me a call. I will gladly remind you how utterly stupid you sound.”

Alec shakes his head, smiling. “Okay. Thank you.”

They both head out in opposite directions.

Magnus heads back to their table.

Maia looks at his empty hands, pouting, “No root beer? Is the vending machine not working?”

Magnus quirks a smile as best he could, throat tight. “Ah, no, wouldn’t accept any bills.”

Izzy peers into Magnus’ face, concerned. “You okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” Magnus quips, trying for a grin that feels it could falter any minute. The bell rings just in time. “Should we head out?”

Clary sighs, getting up to her feet. “Let’s get these next two classes over with.”

They all move towards the door of the cafeteria, and Magnus feels Izzy’s hand on his elbow.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asks quietly. 

_We’re not together._

Magnus smiles small. 

“I’m completely fine.”

Alec walks through the hall towards his lockers, breathing deeply, his fingers gripping at the strap of his backpack like vise on lumber. The image of Magnus depositing books in his locker looms closer and faster than he could ever anticipate, and before he knows it, he’s standing right next to him.

Alec throat bobs up and down, getting rid of the thickness within it that would most definitely make him fucking choke, knowing how he is. 

“Hey.” He says and the word comes out gravelly, like he hasn’t talked for the entire day. Magnus peers from his locker door, smiling.

“Hey.” He answers, and there’s something different in the way he does. Alec feels wary, but he wants to actually _speak_ to Magnus, not just stare at him like an idiot. He fights through the feeling.

“How’d your day go?” Alec asks helplessly, already hating his approach at small talk.

Magnus seem to pick up on this, and it grows his smile minutely. “It was fine, Alec. Tiring.” He gets back to emptying his backpack of its contents of books, oddly silent. 

“Magnus, I just want to say,” Alec starts, voice softer than how he meant it to be, “I just want to say thanks. For helping me come out. And for making sure I had Jace and Simon with me this morning. I really—” _like you_ , Alec holds his breath behind his teeth momentarily, before continuing, “Appreciate it.”

“I’m glad to help.” Magnus answers kindly, closing his locker door and slipping the lock into its slot. Alec watches as he snaps it close and twists the knob a couple of times. He slings his backpack over his shoulder. Alec can’t help but feel something’s awfully amiss. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Magnus asks, palm patting softly against the underside of Alec’s arm, a gesture that should make Alec a bit weak, but instead, it grows the unease in him.

Magnus is walking even before Alec could answer. He is left to gaze at his retreating form, trying to not let his confusion show on his face. “See you.” He murmurs back, hand awkwardly raising in a barely-there wave.

Magnus falters to a stop after a few steps, and turns to look back. Alec is surprised to hear the sigh that escapes his lips. 

“Alec, if you like Sebastian, you should’ve just kissed him instead.” He says, “No sense in confusing him.”

Alec watches, dumbfounded, as Magnus’ form grows smaller, and smaller, and smaller as he goes.

He feels confused panic rise up to his chest.

_What the fuck just happened?!_


	4. Alec Lightwood Wants to Maybe Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jace’s words are soft as he speaks. “If it wasn’t Magnus, would it have been the same?” 
> 
> Alec, for the first time in his life, tells the absolute truth. “No.” 
> 
> “It’s him or nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am /this close/ to banging my head onto the wall re: the progress of our two idiots just falling in love, so know I feel your upcoming frustration lmao! But isn't highschool just rife of dumb misunderstandings brought about by miscommunication? Lmao hope you enjoy nonetheless!
> 
> I'm at @cardiamachina on twitter and follow #nhixxiefic if ur into the live tweets!

Magnus nervously picks at his bottom lip, face scrunched in dread as he stares at the equations sprawled across his booklet. 

Sophomore year isn’t supposed to be this damn stressful. 

He has long accepted that his educational talents lie somewhere closer to Literature, History, and Linguistics, but dammit, he’s said it before and he’ll say it again: Magnus Bane _hates Math_. He really does. Words, you look at, and they mean something; points to an idea that is easily digestible. But Math fucking _sucks_. Math is a bunch of squiggly lines and dumb symbols that apparently when understood properly explains the universe? _What the fuck?_

Magnus sighs small, gathers himself closer in the small corner of the library he loves so much, and readjusts the booklet that is propped upon his folded knees. He’s sitting on the carpeted floor of the classical lit section, and yes he’s aware there are empty tables all around, but this corner has a tall window that lets sunlight through. Maybe a little bit of solar energy can power his brain through this torturous assignment.

He takes another swig of water from his bottle and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He breathes again, getting ready to take another swing at this algebraic equation. If he fails this subject, it’s not going to be for lack of trying, thank you very much. 

Magnus is about to rereview a couple of notes from today’s class when he hears the dull clatter of a book falling on the floor. He looks up, curious, only to see Alec Lightwood struggling to cradle an armful of books while trying his hardest to slowly reach for the fallen paperback without upending his precarious cargo. 

Nothing has looked more ridiculous than this picture of the world’s sourest teenager adorably hassled by gravity.

Magnus squashes a laugh, and it must have still been a loud sound, because Alec whips his head where he sits, slightly alarmed.

“Need help?” Magnus asks, amused. 

Alec straightens immediately, Emily Bronte on the floor forgotten. “No, I’m—I’m good.” He says quickly.

“You know the check out limit is three books at a time, right?” Magnus asks, smile teasing, and Alec’s face falls.

“Is it?” he mutters, a slight look of dejection on his face, “Shit.”

Magnus comments pointedly, “I don’t think you can read seven books in one week.”

Alec looks like he’s got a secret he’s not slick enough to hide, and it paints him adorably. “I could try.” He says a matter-of-factly, readjusting the books in his arms, “You don’t know me.”

 _Oh_ , Magnus thinks, taken aback, and he looks down on his booklet with brows raised. He presses his lips together. “Point taken.”

Alec realizes how he sounds and winces visibly. “Sorry,” he says immediately, “I don’t mean it like that. Sometimes I say things and it comes off differently.” He shifts his weight from one foot to another, and Magnus sees profuse embarrassment on his face.

“Sorry, Magnus.” He says again.

Magnus can’t help but wipe down everything and forgive Alec right away. It’s only been a month since they’ve met, but there’s something about him that’s just so purely genuine. Even his mistakes seem sincere.

Magnus smiles a little. “Maybe I’m a bit dramatic.”

“You’re plenty dramatic.” Alec points out, but it comes out just the right way and it makes Magnus laugh so audibly it draws people’s attention. He bites onto his lip, fingers over his mouth.

“Okay, I’m plenty dramatic.” Magnus admits, and it makes the corner of Alec’s mouth quirk slightly. Magnus motions to the armful of books. “Why so much?”

Alec fidgets a little, and he looks like he wants to share something of him, but is not quite comfortable to do so yet. 

“I have some friends,” he starts, “Who needs some reading materials.”

Magnus looks at Alec curiously, head tilted slightly, as if to appreciate what he just said. He decides on a good trade. 

“I can take half of that stack and borrow it under my name.” Magnus offers, smiling, “But can I ask something in return?”

Alec is taken aback, half pleasantly, half curiously. “What is it?”

Magnus waves his booklet in the air. “Izzy tells me you get math.”

Alec rolls his eyes fondly, because of course Izzy would make sure she’s not gassing up his already inflated academic ego. 

“I don’t just get math.” Alec says, and Magnus swears to god he hears a little quip of teasing in his voice, “I’m good at it.” 

He trudges towards where Magnus is sitting, sets the books onto the floor in a neat stack, and settles to the spot right next to it. Magnus could feel Alec’s arm brush against his as he passes the booklet over to the other’s awaiting hands.

“I’ll be happy with just getting it.” Magnus sighs, “Numbers are not my strong suit.”

Alec flips through another page, eyes scanning the exercises quickly. He murmurs absentmindedly, “I wish I could speak three languages and still have the guts to learn a fourth, but that’s not my strong suit.”

Magnus raises a brow. “How’d you know I speak three languages?”

Alec stares harder at the booklet, jaw working under his skin. He looks found out. “Izzy.”

Magnus smiles pleasantly, and it settles something warm in his chest to know he’s at least ran a couple of circles around Alec’s mind even just once in a while.

“Well, if I’m being talked about, I’m glad it’s in a positive light.”

“Okay.” Alec mutters under his breath, “I’ll walk you through this assignment if you check out some books for me.”

Magnus nods slightly, happy. 

“Deal.”

Magnus takes his library card and slots it into his card holder before gathering The Count of Montecristo, Animal Farm, and Persuasion in a little stack and slipping it off the table. He gives the librarian a bright thank you before trudging to where Alec is expectantly waiting by the entrance.

They make the hand off. “Here you go.” Magnus says, “Three pieces of contraband, as agreed upon.”

Alec does that small quirk of a smile again as he takes the books, eyes cast down. “Thanks.”

“Thank _you_ for getting me through level 2 Algebra.” Magnus says happily, “You might have just saved my life, Alec Lightwood.”

Magnus might be hallucinating, but he swears to god he hears a little, quiet exhale of a laugh come out of Alec’s mouth. 

“Anytime.” He mutters, and standing there he looks so unlike how he usually seems. Same varsity jacket, same fluff of dark hair, same notch on the eyebrow from a tackle gone wrong, but just uncharacteristically gentle. Or maybe he is characteristically gentle, but just not to strangers. Aside from knowing his biggest secret, Magnus truly doesn’t know Alec well enough.

Does anybody at all know Alec Lightwood for who he truly is?

“Alec,” Magnus says softly, one step forward, but with still with enough distance to protect Alec from stray eyes, “When you’re ready,” he pauses, as if to adjust something within himself, “If ever you’re ready,”

“I’m here to help.”

The words seem to pierce right at target, because the words lift Alec’s eyes to his, undecipherable, but a storm swirling within them. Magnus presses his palm at the underside of Alec’s arm momentarily before adjusting his backpack on his shoulder and walking away.

Before truly leaving, Magnus calls out with a small grin, “Maybe then you can tell me about your friends who love to read.”

Sophomore Alec Lightwood smiles.

“Maybe.”

They don’t talk for a while since then.

Senior Alec Lightwood had just dejectedly tossed on a shirt over his head when Izzy comes at him and shoves him so hard on the shoulder it misplaces her hair all over her face.

Alec groans, curling forward, palm pressed against the muscle. “What the fuck, Iz?!” he demands, “What’s wrong with you?!”

“What the fuck did you do?!” She demands back, tossing her bag onto floor of his room.

 _Jesus_ , Alec knows that move. He’d seen it too many times to count, all of which involved a lot of ugly, spit-flying shouting, accompanied by murderous glares that could burn a hole through his skull. Izzy is ready to throw down, and he is not even remotely ready for it.

“About what?!” he says defensively, rubbing the sore spot, and he swerves just in time to miss another go at his shoulder.

“About Magnus you dumb fuck!” Izzy grits, and when the name comes out of her mouth, it makes Alec soften.

He can feel his own expression on his face, and he must look so guiltily forlorn because her anger falters into confusion, her hand slowly falling to her side.

“I don’t know, okay?” Alec sighs, frustrated, “I thought everything was going okay. Not great, not bad, just—okay.”

“Well something must have happened.” Izzy she presses, and Alec tries for self-preservation.

“Why me, anyways?” Alec asks crossly, “It could be something else for all we know.”

Izzy actually laughs, and Alec glares at her sourly. It takes her a minute to settle down, and when she continues, she’s shaking her head.

“Alec, you kissed the guy, walked away, wouldn’t talk to him after the fact.” She says slowly as if to make her point as clearly as possible, “How can it not be you?”

“Do you actually think I don’t want to talk to the person I _fucking like_?” Alec grits, “Not everything comes easy to me, Izzy, god forbid I have a weak spot.”

Alec plops onto his bed, the crease on his brow deepening as his fingers makes its way into the bulk of his hand again.

And I did talk to Magnus.” He says under his breath, “I went up to him after school to actually _try_ to talk to him like a normal person.”

Izzy deflates a little, her diminutive frame growing even smaller than already is without that white-hot anger it carries. She presses her lips together and regards her older brother, usually so tall with his shoulders as strong as his stubborn head, curled into himself in confusion.

She settles onto a seat right next to him. She breathes. “Okay, so maybe I’ve come on too strong.”

Alec rolls his eyes weakly, mutters, “You think?”

Izzy raises both hands in the air, apologetic. “I can’t help it, okay? Magnus is one of my best friends.” She says, “Even you don’t get away with hurting him.”

Alec digs fingers into his hand again. “Well if you can help me figure out what the fuck I’ve done, I’ll gladly apologize.”

Izzy asks, “Well, what did you two talk about?” 

“Oddly enough it was a lot of me talking.” Alec mumbles, “Some awful small talk. Thanked him for his help. He was really quiet, which was weird. But then he answers with some shit about liking Sebastian.”

Izzy looks at him, confused. “He likes Sebastian?”

Alec sighs a second time. “Apparently I do.”

Izzy is doubly confused. “ _You_ do?”

“No, I don’t.” Alec answers roughly.

“Then what the fuck, Alec, why would he come to that conclusion then?” Izzy asks, incredulous, “He wouldn’t just pull that thought out of his ass like a hat trick.”

Alec breathes out heavily. “I’ve never even talked to Sebastian until today.”

“Why now?” Izzy asks curiously, “You guys were never friends.”

Alec throws a hand in the air. “He wanted to congratulate me for coming out? We happen to be in the same spot at the same time? He wanted to get a sprite before fourth period?” he says exasperatedly, “I don’t fucking know.”

Izzy frowns. “Magnus went to get a drink for Maia before fourth period.”

Alec shrugs weakly, trying not to let the frustration get to him. “Okay, so he was there. We were just talking.” He stops to think if saying the next bit would be embarrassing, but honest to god Alec is too tired to feel embarrassed. 

“And we were talking about him.” Alec admits under his breath, “How I liked him.”

Izzy repositions herself on the bed, a knee folded in front of her. “This is such a stupid problem, and the solution is even stupider because it’s so obviously simple. You guys need to talk.”

“And not over text, or over the phone.” Izzy says warningly, “Face to face, because you two, apparently, aren’t smart enough for any sort of nuance, jesus fucking christ.”

Alec doesn’t try to defend himself, because it’s technically true. He scowls instead.

“Anyways,” Izzy announces, slapping both hands onto his thighs before pushing herself up, “I’m going. I have _me_ things I need to deal with too.”

“I’m not going to thank you for whatever _this_ was.” Alec calls out, annoyed, because he truly doesn’t know what exactly happened in the past fifteen minutes. If anything, he felt emotionally manhandled. 

Izzy gives him an annoyingly tight hug (which he begrudgingly returns) before padding towards the door, but before disappearing into the hallways, she stops. She turns back to him, a brow raised. 

“You’ve been out for _two whole days_ and you’ve managed to stir up four years’ worth of shit.”

Alec looks back at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue.

Izzy snickers a little. “I’m a little proud of you, Alec.”

“That’s a bit unfair, Magnus, and you know it.” Clary says pointedly as she jabs a minute into the microwave. It whirrs to life behind her as she leans onto the sink, arms crossed over her chest.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Magnus says from the fridge, his voice slightly muffled.

“You didn’t even give him the chance to explain.” Clary answers, “How can you come to that conclusion without hearing his piece?”

Magnus emerges from the fridge with two cans of soda in his hands. “Look, there isn’t really anything to talk about.” He says softly, closing the door with his foot, “Alec’s right. We’re not together. And he doesn’t owe me an explanation.”

The microwave beeps. “Popcorn’s ready.” Magnus says pointedly.

Clary sighs, turning towards the appliance. “I know, I know.” She opens the microwave, pinches a corner of the puffed bag and pulls it out. “You know, sometimes that level head of yours is annoying.”

Magnus chuckles. “I thought that’s one of my best qualities?”

“Well sometimes it sucks.” Clary complains, shaking the contents of the bag into a bowl, “What about just feeling things?”

“And what did that get me the last time?” Magnus asks, and Clary answers crossly.

“Fuck Camille. She was and still is an awful human being.” She mutters, “But Alec’s _Alec_. We’ve known him just as long as we’ve known Izzy.”

“Doesn’t mean we _know_ him.” Magnus answers.

“You seem to know about an important part of his life long before any of us ever did.” Clary points out, “Which is I’m sure a secret you’ve kept for him for a while.”

Magnus settles onto the couch. “I was just being a decent human being.”

Clary presses as she settles next to him, “Don’t you think that counts for something?”

And because Clary is Clary, she aims and shoots right at target. “Don’t you like him, Magnus?”

Magnus’ thumb swipes unconsciously against the cold surface of the can in his hands. Of course he likes Alec. It’s _Alec_. The moment they met, Alec had sunk into him like fingers into soil. The farther below his surface he’s buried him—out of sight, out of mind—the more he’s cursed himself. Because now everything is so starkly him; he’s seeped into the soil, imbued into the crop. Magnus had never been the same.

But at the very heart of it, what does it matter? Alec likes Sebastian Verlac. He was quick to dismantle the illusion that there is something between them. Magnus has offered to help Alec with his coming out since the moment they first met, and that kiss was simply Alec accepting. Alec has thanked him, _twice_ , first after the fact, second the day after; a show of gratitude to mark an end to the interaction.

Magnus draws out a long breath. He looks resigned. “I just want to go through senior year unscathed, Clary.” He says under his breath, “That’s all I want.”

Clary looks at him, really looks, as if she sees every moving cog in his mind.

“Okay.” She says, palm softly squeezing at his shoulder. 

“We’ll leave it.”

“Alec—” 

Alec could hear Jace from his periphery, but he explodes forward anyways, feet winding quickly, speed bursting from his legs with every breakdown he makes around the path of cones laid out before him. He finishes with a push-stick-faint combo before running out, arms held high as he catches the football that sails towards his direction. 

Alec frowns, his mind zeroing in on the minor trip he makes on one of the cones. “One more.” He mutters, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. 

If Jace looks at him exasperatedly, he ignores it. “Alec.” He presses again, and Alec tosses him the ball along with another cross _one more_.

Jace wouldn’t be Jace if he didn’t push on stubbornly, so he does, stalking towards Alec’s direction. “You’ve been at this for an hour—” 

He doesn’t answer, cuts Jace’ sentiment short by resetting and leaping into the drill. He lets the routine of football practice permeate his brain, because football is simple. Football doesn’t confuse him, or fill him with deep dread. It doesn’t make his heart lurch like it’s going to fall off the cradle of his lungs. It doesn’t expect anything from him but to play the game and play it well. After two days of expectations from all corners of his life, Alec Lightwood wants silence. 

Just simple, fucking _silence_. And Jace, as much as Alec loves him to his stubborn core, will not let him have it.

“Alec!” 

Alec is about to snap, anger already rising in his chest, when he feels a hand pull at his elbow. It diffuses the blazing, furious annoyance into a smoking candle wick. It’s a familiar gesture, and Alec knows it well. It’s the same pull on the elbow Jace gives him that first walk to school after coming out. An _I’m here_. A _you don’t have to do this alone_. It’s unforgettable. 

“Alec.” Jace says again, and this time, it breaks through, “What’s going on with you?”

Alec breathes, shoulders hunched and heaving, and he passes a hand over his face, wiping the trickle of sweat away.

“Talk to me.” Jace says, almost pleads, if anything. 

Jace has never plead for anything in his damn life. 

Ever since Alec had come out, Jace has been seeking something. He talks to him with care, checks on him consistently. Alec appreciates the sentiment, he really does, but it’s like Jace is making up for past failures that doesn’t exist. It’s like he’s chasing some kind of reprieve, and in search of it, Alec ends up feeling like he’s a glass bauble always in danger of breaking.

Alec looks at his best friend, a confused frown creasing his brow. “Look, Jace, we didn’t talk about shit like this before I came out.” He says between pants of breath, “We don’t need start now.”

Jace shakes his head. “We start now.” He says, “We should’ve started a long time ago.”

Alec looks at Jace and every bit of him is engulfed with guilt. Brow creasing, shoulders sagging, eyes cast down onto his feet. His words suspend behind the cage of his teeth, ready for when he finds the voice to speak. 

“Did I ever make you feel uncomfortable?” Jace asks, like he’s already dreading the answer he’s going to receive. “Was that why you didn’t come out to me?”

Alec softens. When he decided to come out, he tried to look at all the consequences that may befall him after. What he expected of Jace was, truthfully, anger. Of being lied to, mostly, or maybe of not being trusted enough to be told the truth. Alec definitely did not expect regret.

“You’re my brother.” He continues, quietly, ashamedly, and there seems to be an apology well-hidden beneath the floorboards of the words, “And all this time I let you think you’re not safe to be who you are in my company.”

Alec’s breaths leave him in smaller and smaller puffs as he catches it steadily, the exhaustion of repeating his drills now dawning over his body. “Don’t blame yourself.” He says between inhale-exhales, shaking his head minutely.

Jace shrugs weakly. “I do though,” he says, tossing the football onto the ground and sitting down, “A little, I do. Not talking to you about it is something I’ll be hard on myself over for a long time.” 

Alec follows suit, collapsing more readily into a cross-legged seat. “I felt safe, Jace.” He mutters, “Just not ready.”

“Didn’t you feel lonely?” Jace asks, and the question makes Alec smile a little.

“I had Izzy.” Alec murmurs, fingers awkwardly picking at the patch of grass beneath him, “Mom and Dad too, but mostly Izzy.”

Jace asks his next question without its usual tease. “And Magnus?”

For the first time in his life Alec doesn’t let the thought of Magnus crawl panic up his back. Instead he breathes him in, breathes him out, lets him settle warmly in his chest instead.

“I had him too.” Alec admits, and almost immediately he remembers the helping hand suspended before him, waiting for him to take it firmly within his grasp, “In a different way.”

Jace seems confused. Alec straightens, running a hand over his face. “It’s a bit complicated.”

Jace nods, an understanding made. Magnus is something that will not be breached today. He looks down on his hands which have taken likeness to Alec’s, fingers snapping blades of grass from where they are rooted. The silence that befalls on both of them feels somewhat strained, like there’s something caught along the space of their in-betweens. 

_Talk to me._

Alec speaks. “You know when you have a cramp in your rib, and breathing becomes hard?”

Jace looks up, taken aback by the openness Alec displays, and nods slowly. He doesn’t really know where the conversation is going, but he’s right there with him.

Alec exhales, his own bones moving easily in his chest. “For the longest time, it hurt to breathe.” 

“I just wanted to know what it’s like to breathe deeply.” Alec says, throat rough, “When I kissed Magnus that day, I felt like I’ve taken my first real breath.” 

Alec remembers it as clearly as a memory only seconds old. Magnus’ mouth against his is a feeling he had plated in gold and memorialized like a small victory in a bigger battle. It’s what soothes when something burns, and it’s what calms when it storms. And in times when Alec can’t push down the doubt that mutters _coming out is a mistake_ in his ear, it’s the small lick of Magnus tongue against Alec’s mouth that tells him softly, _you’ll be alright._

“When you’ve found out what it feels like to breathe like you’re meant to breathe, live like you’re meant to live,” A corner of his mouth quirks softly, “There’s no going back.”

Jace’s words are soft as he speaks.

“If it wasn’t Magnus, would it have been the same?”

Alec, for the first time in his life, tells the absolute truth. “No.” 

“It’s him or nothing.”

Alec Lightwood walks through the hall with a look on his face that makes everybody scramble, parting so cleanly that a path is paved for him. 

Alec doesn’t exactly know how he looked like, but he does feel how heavy his steps are against the floor. If he really takes notice, he could feel the strained line of muscle on his shoulders, and the vise-like grip he has on his backpack strap. And because high schoolers are dramatic gossips in their very core, he can feel eyes on him as he makes his way to his locker looking like he’s about to fight. 

Well, fight for his damn life, maybe. Because Alec Lightwood is about to lose his fucking mind. Because his entire weekend had been spent flipping his entire five-minute conversation with Sebastian Verlac inside out, every which way, in order to figure out what part of _he’s too good for me_ vaguely sounds like _I like you, guy I’ve never even met before_.

The only thing he knows for sure is that he needs to talk to Magnus, right here, right now. And if he doesn’t do it right away, he will lose his nerve and it will take forever and a half to build his courage back up again. 

After a long, arduous walk down a sea of students Alec sees Magnus, finally, and he pushes away the urge run away. He almost immediately feels his determination shake at the center, and it takes a lot to steel himself. _Just do it, Lightwood_ , he tells himself stubbornly, willing his legs to move, _Jesus christ, just do it_. Magnus has his back to him, locker door ajar, and Alec runs the words through his brain.

_Magnus, I don’t like Sebastian. I’ve never liked him. I’ve never even talked to him. I like you._

Alec winces at the last part. He’ll have to see if he has enough of a fully-formed spine to say that. But the important parts are the first parts. 

He’s only a few steps away when he sees another smaller frame move minutely from behind Magnus. They’re talking, much of it Alec can’t hear, but it makes him move smoothly behind the locker door, his fingers grasping at his own lock, hurriedly swinging his own locker open. He pretends to rummage inside, pressing himself closer into it, out of sight, heart pounding in his ears.

“Okay, tomorrow after school, then.” Alec hears Magnus say, and he could almost hear the smile in his face and Alec feels like crumpling within himself, “My place?”

“Works for me.” A girl’s voice quips, and the playful way she says the next words may have been a full stab at Alec’s chest, “See you then, darling.”

Alec can hear the soft clack of her heels as she walks away, and he’s so lost in the sound of it that it takes him a second to realize Magnus has swung his locker shut. 

“Alec?”

Alec blinks, looks to his left. Magnus is looking up at him, slightly concerned.

“Yeah, hi,” Alec answers hurriedly, and he feels off, like the floorboards have shifted under his feet.

“Are you okay?” Magnus asks.

“I’m fine,” Alec almost croaks, but he hides it behind a cough. He offers yet another attempt at small talk, “Got somewhere to be tomorrow, huh?” Magnus, as always, appreciates the effort. 

“Yeah.” He says, smiling, “Have you met Dot? She’s nice.”

“She is.” Alec agrees, “Student head of our school charity program, right? Smart, too.”

Magnus doesn’t really answer, and he’s looking at him so unabashedly that would make Alec squirm where he stands, but it’s Magnus. Nothing about the slight tilt of his head and the gentle curiosity in his eyes could ever make him feel uncomfortable. 

“Alec,” he murmurs, “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

The way he says it almost feels like a small secret shared between the two of them, and Alec hates how soft Magnus sounds. As if he’s forgotten being hurt by Alec, as if he hasn’t been nursing his own insecurities, no matter how much of a misunderstanding it had been.

Without fail, Magnus remains to be the best person Alec has ever known. 

Alec lets the things he wants to let Magnus know die on his tongue, because Dot Rollins is a kind girl with wits that matches Magnus’. She talks to him with no reservations, teases him with no fear. And Magnus deserves his chance at a first meeting that doesn’t end with the other running away, or a kiss that isn’t born out of a dare.

Alec has no damn right to root him onto the ground with his inconsequential explanations and a ball and chain confession. They’re not together, never was, as Alec is sometimes so quick to say. 

Magnus is the best person Alec knows. 

He deserves something real.

“I’m happy for you, Magnus.” Alec says, a fucking lie, smile as heavy as the gravitational pull on his heart. The next thing he says actually, physically hurts. 

He says it anyways.

“Friends?” 

Alec presents his hand like the idiot he is, because he doesn’t know what to do otherwise.

Magnus softly gazes at Alec’s outstretched hand that slightly shakes if one looks closely. There’s a thought or two flitting about in his head, Alec can see, but with a steady breath out, he finally makes a move. He takes Alec’s hand in his, but instead of shaking it, he holds it gently.

He smiles, as if to agree. 

“Friends.”

Magnus watches as Alec is whisked away by Simon and Jace, laughs a little under his breath as Jace gives him a pointed little wink. Funny what a little bit of hand-holding can do, he thinks. He won’t be able to forget the feeling of Alec’s hand in his for a long time. 

Alec. 

Alec, with one word, finally put to rest whatever cautiously hopeful thoughts Magnus had. Maybe it stings like a fresh wound, maybe it will take time to scar over. But Magnus did ask whatever’s out there to spare him the pain, to get out of senior year unscathed. 

A small nick to prevent a larger gash.

Alec Lightwood likes Sebastian Verlac, and Alec Lightwood wants to only be friends. Two cuts he’s going to have to bear for a while.

The bell rings, and the halls bustle with movement. 

He patches himself up on his way to French class. 

Magnus receives a text from Dot.

_Do I need to bring anything for tomorrow?_

Magnus texts back.

_I don’t think so. I’ve got everything outlined._

He allows one last ding on his phone before silencing it for class and putting it away.

_Ugh, I knew I picked the right partner for this presentation!_

Magnus can’t help but grin a little.

_Yes you did, darling._


	5. Alec Lightwood Wants to Fuck Shit Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just so you know,” Magnus says, and his voice scratches in his throat, “That kiss two days ago, to Alec, that meant nothing. So when Alec told you we’re not together, he’s not lying to you. We really, truly aren’t.”
> 
> Sebastian only looks back, as if still waiting for more words that would complete his sentiment.
> 
> Magnus doesn’t know what else to say. “Just so you know.” He finishes lamely.
> 
> When Sebastian realizes there’s nothing else to follow, he only grows even more perplexed. A flicker of confusion disturbs smoothness of his brow and creases it, until suddenly, everything melts into a realization. He takes a couple of steps forward. 
> 
> When he speaks, there’s something in his voice Magnus can’t quite place.
> 
> “And to you?” he asks, “Did it mean anything?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I deliver on my promise to fix the mess that was last chapter, lmao. 10,000 words of everything coming together, finally! Very special thanks to the lovely Jihane (@J_LightwoodBane) for helping me with the French translations! 
> 
> I'm @cardiamachina on twitter if you want to chat, and I follow #nhixxiefic if you're into the livetweeting as well!
> 
> Enjoy!

Junior Magnus Bane wants to laugh, but Mr. Rey is a bit of an asshole, and there’s nothing else he values more during detention than the lack of talk. That and playing Mozart in the background, as if being in a room with him in it is not punishment enough.

So instead, he murmurs. 

“You really didn’t have to.”

Junior Alec Lightwood shifts in his seat right next to him, trigonometry book open. “Point taken,” he mutters back, “Next time Aldertree goes through your things, I’ll stand back.”

Magnus leans back onto his own chair, trying to not smile. “I can take care of myself.”

Alec flips a page. “I’m sure you can.”

Magnus props an elbow against the surface of his desk, chin settled on his upturned palm, and unabashedly he watches as Alec works through an assignment that isn’t due until three days from now. Observing Alec is an amusing thing; he could almost accurately countdown in his head when he would start to fidget. And there’s not much to do with detention when one profusely refuses to work on an assignment that involves Mathematics. 

“Stop.” Alec mumbles irately, and Magnus smiles cheekily. _Ah. There it is._

“Does it hurt?” Magnus asks, motioning towards Alec’s sore knuckles.

Alec presses his mouth together. “It’s fine.” 

Alec’s left hand twitches as if it senses that its being talked about, knuckles scratched and slightly red. He stretches them out and shakes them off to relieve the ache. There’s a certain kind of daintiness to Alec’s fingers, as if years of abuse from playing football haven’t affected the way it flares against the pages of his book, or the way it wraps around a pen. Magnus feels heat crawl up his neck. He wonders how—

_Danger zone, Magnus. Get out of there._

Magnus pivots _quickly_. “Why were you so mad about Aldertree going through my stuff?” he decides to ask instead.

Alec raises a brow at him, left hand still flexing and unflexing. “Why aren’t _you_?”

Magnus shrugs. “They’re just stuff, Alec. A few ripped Level 3 French notes, but hardly anything that merits a punch in the face.”

Magnus hadn’t taken more than five minutes in the bathroom, and when he returns, his entire backpack had been strewn on the floor, some of his notes torn into pieces and scattered everywhere. He’d picked up his bag and checks the only thing that really matters—his mom’s name patch from an old uniform she’s left behind—and had been relieved to find it still stitched on the front pocket. 

He’s not new to the dickhead actions of Victor Aldertree, the school’s resident anthromorphized version of a used ass wipe. Bullies are so predictable, and Magnus is as proudly queer as one can be, so it hadn’t been hard to piece the picture together. 

What he hadn’t expected was Alec Lightwood having risen up to his full height from his usual corner of the classroom, towering over Aldertree like a fucking bear on its hind legs. Before Magnus can walk over and diffuse the situation somehow, Alec had shoved Aldertree back. There had been a pause, a few exchanged words under their breaths that Magnus couldn’t quite hear, and then that one punch across the face that cemented both their places in this afternoon’s detention. Magnus remembers the gasp-laugh that comes out of his mouth at the sight of it.

Football vice-captain Alec Lightwood. GPA never lower than 3.95 Alec Lightwood. Presumptive class valedictorian Alec Lightwood.

The same Alec sits right next to Magnus in his, probably, first ever stint at detention, fist sore. The juxtaposition is truly a miracle bestowed by the universe.

“You didn’t hear what he said.” Alec says under his breath.

Magnus fully turns to him, because fuck it, Mr. Rey can scold him however much he pleases. 

“And what did he say?”

Alec shifts again in his seat, fingers nervously fidgeting on the edge of his book. “You won’t want to hear it.”

Magnus smiles at the concern. “I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

“He uh,” Alec mutters, swallowing the lump on his throat, “Called you an attention seeker. Said you can’t even decide whether to be straight or gay,”

“So you decided to be half of each.” Alec finishes, uncomfortable. He looks at Magnus to gauge his reaction.

Magnus hums, not even fazed. Basic, biphobic insults, and they’re fucking weak. He’s heard it a thousand times, and has not cared for it equally as much. He’s heard better. 

“What did he say before you punched him?” Magnus asks.

The crease grows on Alec’s brow, and Magnus feels like this he really doesn’t want to say. 

“I really don’t think you should hear this.” Alec says under his breath, visibly upset.

“Tell me, Alec.” Magnus says, quietly now, “Please.”

Alec looks back at him, determined yet helpless, five seconds from caving in.

He mutters, “He said,”

_He fucking deserved what Camille did to him._

Magnus feels something deflate within him at the words. He chuckles. “Gotta give it to Aldertree.” He says, trying for humor but only half succeeding, “That stung.”

Alec closes his book, pushes it aside. He looks like there’s something he’s dying to say, but couldn’t quite figure out yet how he’s going to go about it. Magnus’s lips quirk slightly at the sight. That’s the thing with Alec Lightwood; he couldn’t hide what he feels even if he wants to. 

Finally, he speaks. His fingers fidget against each other.

“Look, I don’t know exactly what happened,” He says and it comes out apprehensive but gentle, “But you never deserve to be hurt.”

Alec says the next words so softly Magnus barely hears it.

“You’re a good person.”

Magnus smiles, and it lifts something in him. Not completely, but it makes a difference. 

“Thanks.” He murmurs, smiling down at the lines of his palm, “I try.”

Alec shrugs, head shaking minutely. “I think you just _are_.”

“Well, so are you.” Magnus says pointedly, and the next words make him laugh a little, “So maybe don’t punch people in the face anymore? Let _them_ be the dickheads.”

It makes Alec laugh under his breath. 

“Fine, I’ll try.”

Senior Magnus Bane adjusts his head against the cradle of his backpack, trying to find a softer spot to lie on. He swears to god he has some kind of shirt in there that would cushion his neck a little better.

Magnus usually spends time with the team during free period, but today, he finds that he needs the solitude more. After this morning’s fairly disappointing realization, he’s been toeing the line between keeping it together and maybe losing his collective shit. But another pitying glance from Clary or another pointed look from Izzy might just tip him over the edge. So, sprawl on a corner of an empty football field and review for his oral examination for French class it is.

He ignores the flirty laughter from a couple ducking under the bleachers and focuses on the audio playing in his ears. No thinking about how there’s two students trying to quietly make out somewhere out there, and definitely no thinking about how Alec Lightwood has annoyingly turned Magnus into a hopeful, bumbling idiot. 

_Focus._

He fiddles an earphone and boosts up the volume a little more. The narrator delivers her lines in French perfectly, and it pauses for him to answer.

_Quand est-ce ce que vous voudriez prendre rendez-vous chez le dentiste?_

“Je peux venir—” Magnus responds, frowning slightly at how it comes out, and mumbles it again under his breath. “Je peux venir ce vendredi s'il y a une place de libre.”

_I wish I could speak three languages and still have the guts to learn a fourth, but that’s not my strong suit._

Magnus groans. “Oh, putain.”

An amused voice comes from above. “Tu t'es beaucoup amélioré, ta prononciation est meilleure.” 

Magnus crane his neck back, blinking. He sees a pair of track shoes pressed against the grass of the football field, and when his eyes hike up, he realizes who it is.

“Hello, Magnus.” Sebastian Verlac smiles, a sincere one at that.

“Hey,” Magnus pitches himself up on his elbows, surprised. “I didn’t know you spoke French.”

“Perks of a military family.” Sebastian answers warmly, squinting up at the sunlit sky, “My dad worked at the air base at Fauville, so we stayed there for a while.” 

He looks at Magnus inquiringly. “You too, right?”

“Navy, and it’s my mom.” Magnus says, brows rising, “How’d you know?”

Sebastian throws a knowing look at the patch stitched on Magnus’ back pack, the US Navy logo next to an embroidered Bane. He smiles. “I did the same, but I stitched mine on my favorite jacket instead.”

“I think I like that better.” Magnus says, grinning softly, “Permission to blatantly copy your idea?”

Sebastian laughs. “Permission granted.”

It’s weirdly easy to talk to Sebastian, despite being one of the direct causes of Magnus’ internal grief for the past few days. There’s a shine of kindness to his smile that’s hard to dismiss as anything other than genuine, and he’s just— _nice_. Witty, and friendly, and funny, and _nice_. And as much as it really does suck, Magnus can see why Alec has grown to like him.

“Unusual to see you out here all alone.” He comments with that kind tone he always has. He’s down on one knee, tying a shoe lace a little tighter.

Magnus pushes himself into a seated position, legs crossed.

“Yeah,” He says, nose scrunched, “I love my team, but sometimes I can’t even think to myself when I’m around them.”

Sebastian laughs as he straightens. “Ah, popularity. Such a curse, isn’t it?”

Magnus rolls his eyes, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I wouldn’t know.” He chuckles, and he decides to add, “Ask Alec. He’ll have a better idea.”

Magnus weighs how he feels after what he said. He goes from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, making sure to pay close attention to his heart—doesn’t feel too bad. _Good_. Because if he is to keep being friends with Alec, he needs to get used to talking to Sebastian about him without feeling like he’s having a coronary every damn time.

Sebastian mulls a thought and says, “I don’t think he even knows how high on the popularity ladder he is.”

“No, probably not.” Magnus agrees.

He smiles fondly and Sebastian laughs, like he’s arrived at the same thought: Alec Lightwood, oblivious idiot, trademark sign. Look at that. Already bonding over their shared connection over one, particular guy, and Magnus doesn’t feel like completely dying. He’ll take it. 

“I should get around doing a couple of laps.” Sebastian chuckles, “Thank you for indulging me in my procrastination.”

Magnus fingers play with the cord of his earphones. “Anytime.”

Sebastian is about to run out into the track when Magnus suddenly feels a strong compulsion.

“Sebastian!” he calls out even before he could truly process what he’s doing, and Sebastian turns on his heels, expectant. 

“Yes?”

Magnus decides to go for it. He stands up, forcing his knees not to buckle. His heart thumps so hard he can hear it in his ears, and for the first time in a while, he’s nervous. That, and right at the center of his chest, there’s a sullen ache that starts to grow. 

“Just so you know,” Magnus says, and his voice scratches in his throat, “That kiss two days ago, to Alec, that meant nothing. So when Alec told you we’re not together, he’s not lying to you. We really, truly aren’t.”

Sebastian only looks back, as if still waiting for more words that would complete his sentiment.

Magnus doesn’t know what else to say. “Just so you know.” He finishes lamely.

When Sebastian realizes there’s nothing else to follow, he only grows even more perplexed. A flicker of confusion disturbs smoothness of his brow and creases it, until suddenly, everything melts into a realization. He takes a couple of steps forward. 

When he speaks, there’s something in his voice Magnus can’t quite place.

“And to you?” he asks, “Did it mean anything?”

Magnus’s mouth weakly quirks on one corner, an attempt at a smile. “Doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Sebastian regards him closely. “Why?”

If Magnus didn’t believe the universe isn’t a vengeful entity, he does now, because he can’t believe he has to spell it out for Sebastian. And sadly enough, he doesn’t have enough self-preservation to refuse to do so. So much for not being a complete, bumbling idiot. 

“Alec likes you.” Magnus finally says as steadily as he can, and _jesus_ it stings, and the next one is a particularly painful stab in the chest, “He wants to be with you.”

Sebastian actually laughs, and Magnus only looks on, dumfounded. 

“I don’t mean to laugh, I apologize.” he settles into a smile, and Magnus feels stung. Is this actually happening? Is his pain actually being laughed at right now? _What the hell?_

“You and Alec,” he continues, grinning, “Are so ridiculously oblivious it hurts.”

Magnus doesn’t think the confusion on his face can set any deeper. “What are you talking about?”

“Magnus,” Sebastian says, “Next time you accidentally eavesdrop on a conversation, please, stay the entire time. Because you missed some very important things.”

Magnus feels his annoyance flare. “ _What are you talking about?_ ”

“Sit.” Sebastian laughs again, softer this time, “This is going to take a while.”

Oh, Magnus thinks weakly, and Sebastian looks at him, trying to read his expression.

_What the ever-loving fucking hell._

Magnus blinks up in realization. “I need to go.” 

Sebastian laughs. “Yes, you do.”

Magnus bolts off the field and into the school building so fast he could’ve maybe tried out for track team at the same time.

Magnus is crafting a panicked text to Izzy (lacking proper punctuation and entirely in caps lock) when he runs into Jace down the hallway he’s currently speed walking through. 

“Hey, Bane!” He calls, and it makes Magnus look up from his screen. He’s got a sizeable box cradled in his arms.

“Jace!” Magnus says, relieved, “Where’s Alec?”

He grins over the top of the box that comes up to his chin. “Missing him already? You two are disgusting.”

Magnus waves away the comment impatiently and presses on, “I need to talk to Alec.”

“So does thirteen of his teammates!” Jace comments as he starts walking away, “He’s a hot commodity!”

Magnus’ resolve falters, because _shit_. Today’s the day he’s finally facing the very team he came out to four days ago. And Magnus is not that nearly important enough to be worth derailing this conversation. He can’t do that to Alec. 

“How’s he holding up?” Magnus chooses to ask instead, and the words come out softer than he expected, “Is he nervous?”

“Not nervous. I don’t think Alec is ever nervous.” Jace says, thinking, “Agitated, maybe.”

Jace is wrong, Magnus thinks. Alec has been nervous. Magnus knows this, and only he knows this, because he’s seen it across the inches of space that was once scantly between them that one fateful day. Because that is exactly what glinted in his eyes and stuttered his breaths the day Alec crossed that field to kiss him. 

Alec, most likely, is nervous now.

And Magnus wishes he could be there to take it away in the exact same way he did that day. 

But he can’t. There’s some things Alec is going to need to do by himself. This is one of them. 

“He’ll be fine.” Jace says reassuringly, and he means it, “Don’t worry.”

Magnus can’t help himself. He looks concernedly at Jace, like he’s entrusting something precious in his hands. 

“You got him?” he asks.

Jace softens at the shoulders at the words, smiling. 

“I got him.”

Magnus catches Jace with one last sentiment before he turns to go.

“If you can just pass on a message for me.” He says, “Please.”

Magnus walks back into class, eyes bleary in thought, hands playing with the loose threads in his jacket pocket. He barely sees Clary and Izzy coming at him, and it takes a second to come out of his own world. He watches as they stop him in his tracks with a hand on the arm and two stern looks that mean business.

“Enough of this shit.” Izzy presses irately, “We need to talk about you and Alec.”

Magnus opens his mouth to speak, but Clary pulls them all into an empty classroom. “No excuses.” She says, if not accuses.

Magnus is pushed into a chair, as if to say _you’re going to listen and you’re going to listen good_. And he understands, really, and he’s quite touched that Izzy and Clary cares so much, but this feels like it’s getting serious.

He tries again. “Iz—” 

“You two are so stupid!” Izzy yells accusingly, hands waving in the air in gesture, “Alec _likes you!_ He kissed _you!_ In a football field full of people, he zeroed in on _you_ like he knows at all instances where you are in relation to where he is, like a love-sick fool with a crush on _you!_ I just don’t understand why this is so hard for you two! God! I’m losing my goddamn mind!”

Magnus’ brows raise at the onslaught, thoroughly amused. Izzy is heaving with so much frustration she looks like she’s going to explode. Clary places placating hands on her shoulders, and turns to Magnus too.

“Magnus, we don’t mean to be rude.”

“That doesn’t apply to me!” Izzy says defensively, nose high in the air, “I was rude and I stand by it!”

Magnus bites onto his lower lip, _this close_ to bursting into laughter.

“But as your best friends,” Clary grits, emphasizing the last two words while digging an elbow into Izzy’s side, “We feel you’re making a big mistake.”

“Idiots!” Izzy rages on, and Clary holds her in place.

“Being hurt once isn’t a good enough excuse to walling yourself off to something you definitely feel.” Clary says, “And if you don’t allow yourself to like someone now because of what happened then, then you’re just letting old wounds win.”

“Why do I have to do _everything_ around here, like jesus _fuck_ —”

Clary sighs into her hand, and Magnus finally allows himself the laugh he very well deserves. Both girls look at him curiously, one more suspicious than the other.

“Are you laughing at _us_?” Izzy whispers in disbelief, “Your two best friends?”

“Honestly? Yes.” Magnus admits, laughter still bubbling from his chest, “If you just let me talk, I would’ve told you I talked to Sebastian a while ago. I know everything.”

Izzy blinks. “Oh.”

“And I know we’ve been stupid, and I know it took me a while.”

“But I do like Alec.” Magnus confesses abashedly, far from the confident swagger he usually wears, “And I guess what I’m asking is,”

“Is that okay with you?”

Clary grins at the words. Magnus looks at Izzy hopefully and it effectively dampens her annoyance, and just like that she melts completely. A small flustered noise escapes her mouth and she throws her arms around his neck, squeezing him into a tight embrace.

“God, of course,” she murmurs, relieved, “I’ve been wanting this for three damn years!”

“Promise you’ll talk to him today?” Izzy asks expectantly, and Magnus chuckles.

“I promise.”

The end of the day comes, and Alec stares down the door of the locker room, breath stuttering from his lips. His heart knocks forcefully against his chest.

Alec passes a hand over his mouth and forces a deep breath in and out.

There is fifteen people on that other side of the door that is yet to make it known to Alec what they think about his sexuality. Fifteen people who he has spent entire summers going to sports clinics with, ridden painful, three-hour bus rides to interschool football games with. 

Alec remembers giving up his weekends sometimes, because he couldn’t bear the helpless way Underhill cradles his head in his hands when he doesn’t get the physics lesson of the day, or the way Santiago tries to hide that he’s struggling with the old English words used in the Shakespearean classic they need to read by next week.

He remembers the arms that would slump across his shoulders clumsily when they would invite him to the house parties he hates to the core, just as much as he remembers the fond roll of his eyes as he secedes to their pleading requests. 

He remembers the way they comfortingly huddled around him when he tells them that his father has left their family for another woman just before they moved to Idris. 

As much as Alec hurts for Magnus, he pushes the thought of him away. Whatever happens today, whether it’s just another brick on the house him and his team have built or the complete erosion of it down to its very foundation, Alec is going to deal with it with his entire being on the line. He owes them at least that, and not half of his brain still replaying _friends? friends_ in a constant loop.

Alec can already hear Simon and Jace’s voices on the other side of the door. _I’ll see you there_ , Alec had said, _I’ll be fine._

No point in prolonging the inevitable, Alec thinks. He’s already let the weekend elapse without addressing any of what happened on the field that first day back to school. So with one motion, he grasps the doorknob, fingers shaking, and enters the room. 

They all falter to a stop when he steps in, door swinging soundly and slamming shut. Everybody seem to have forgotten what they were doing in that moment, and it bleeds silence into a space usually pulsing with laughter. 

Alec counts: thirteen. Raj and Duncan isn’t anywhere to be found. He doesn’t know what to feel about it.

“Hey.” He says instead.

Alec looks out at his team, already dressed for afternoon practice, same green shirt on that he’s never seen before. He tries to ignore that sorrow that tries to crawl around his periphery. Five seconds into this entire thing and he already feels left out. 

Jace and Simon smile at him from where they stand, both oblivious to the earth slowly crumbling beneath Alec’s feet

Thirteen people await his next words, but Alec doesn’t have any.

“I don’t know what to say.” He admits croakily, and because he’s not told the truth for the past three years, and he wants to be truthful now, “I don’t know what comes next after this.”

“Do any of us?” Bat asks, and its neither a joke or an insult. Whatever he’s feeling, Alec can’t figure it out.

“I guess not.” Alec mutters, blinking onto his feet.

A beat of silence, and it’s Underhill who speaks to break it. “How about,” he pauses momentarily to think, “How about say what you’ve always wanted to say? You must have more than _I’m gay._ ”

Alec looks up. “What do you mean?”

Underhill shrugs, shoulder leaned onto his gym locker. “Vice-cap, you always have more in your mind than what comes out of your mouth.”

Alec lets the observation seep through and allows a moment of introspection. That past summer, how had he envisioned coming out to his team? It had been dramatic. He had felt like crying, a stubborn thorn piercing his throat with a sob he could barely keep down. Alec doesn’t know whether he wants to do that. 

He speaks instead, starts with words he knows is true and hopes it continues on. 

“I’m gay. But it’s not like I’ve been somebody else the entire time.” Alec says, steels himself, strengthens his voice, “I’m still the same person who’s been playing football with you guys for the past three years.” 

His fingers find its way through his hair, mussing it up nervously.

He can’t help the small sigh in his voice when he continues on. “I still hate house parties, and that will never change.” He hears Jace chuckle quietly upon hearing the words. “I still take five days to reply to a text. I still really like going through physics things with anyone who needs help with it.”

Alec is fidgeting so much he’s picked out loose threads from the hem of his shirt. 

“I’m still the same teammate you’ve had for the last three years.” He presses, and he feels now like he’s fighting for thirteen relationships with thirteen different people.

“The only difference is that I’m more me than I’ve _ever_ been my entire life.” Alec breathes the words out more than he says it, a breath so deep it sets him free. 

“And if you all can’t have that, tell me now.” Alec says, tries to steady his voice that threatens to quiver, “To my face. I don’t want to waste my time and yours by figuring it out through whispers behind my back, or house parties I won’t be invited to more and more as time goes by.”

Alec passes a hand over his jaw, sighing. “Or matching shirts everybody has but me.”

He feels stupid admitting to it, but he has to say it now or he’ll forever mourn it in silence.

Santiago raises a brow, plucking the fabric at the neck. “These?”

Simon takes a step forward and quips, “You sure you want another shirt with your name and number on it?”

Alec watches, dumbfounded, as everybody in the room turn in almost-unison, feet shuffling against the slick floor. On their backs the number 22 in big, blocked numbers. Above the numbers, the word _Lightwood_ , displayed proudly, admiringly. All of them peer over their shoulders, excited to see Alec’s face upon the reveal, but it’s Jace who starts speaking.

“Those two days between you coming out and you talking to the team worked well for us.” He says cheekily, “Gave us some time to get these made.”

Underhill grins as he tosses something Alec’s way and he catches it at the last second, still in a daze. “Don’t cry, but we got you one.”

Alec unsteadily holds it out before him, the fabric cradled within his hands. He wants to say something, but he couldn’t figure out what. He has only armoured himself for rejection. He’s got nothing for acceptance.

“We’re with you, Alec.” Jace says, already reading the innerworkings of his mind, already hears the hundreds of ways it churns, “If that’s okay with you.”

Alec manages to nod, croaking, “It’s okay.”

Jace is grinning now. “Good.” he says, looking at him pointedly, “Change. Coach is waiting for us in the field.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys there.” Alec manages to say, blinking away the glassiness in his eyes just in time to hide it from the team that crashes over him in a wave of arms wound around his shoulders. They cheer into his ear as if there’s a victory that has been won, and maybe, Alec thinks, there’s a small one tucked within the circle of arms around him. 

He feels fingers scramble his hair all over the place and it makes Alec groan, slapping away the hand that he knows for a fact belongs to Simon. 

“Get off me!” he whines, and it only makes them all laugh and crowd him into a stupidly large hug. 

“Okay, okay, coach expected us at the field five minutes ago!” Jace calls out, clapping his hands loudly as he snickers, “Lightwoods, all of you, move your asses!”

At last Alec is released, bodies falling away from the huddle they’ve formed at the middle of the locker room. He breathes out in relief, but there’s a laugh under his breath, corralled firmly behind his teeth so as to save face. Crying and now laughing? He can’t have that. 

The smile that remains tell everything, though. In this snapshot of a moment, Alec Lightwood is happy.

He slips the shirt over his head.

“Hey.” Alec calls quietly before Jace fully leaves the locker room.

Jace looks back at him, already halfway through the door. “Yeah?”

Alec’s fingers fret against the hem of his shirt. “We’ve lost some people, huh?”

Jace presses his mouth together, grip on the door tight. 

“We did.”

Alec blinks down onto his hands, nodding once. “Okay.”

“Hey.” Jace says gently, “The rest of us are still here. Whatever hole they’ve left behind, we’ll fill.”

Alec’s mouth quirks into a small smile, disappointment a counterweight to his elation. “Thanks.”

Jace looks at him like he’s not quite convinced by the smile until he suddenly cracks a wide grin. Alec doesn’t like how gleamingly evil it looks. 

“And I’m sure Magnus is willing to fill any other holes we most definitely can’t.”

Alec closes his eyes, pained, hand covering his mouth as Jace doubles over in laughter, tears in his eyes. “You’re an idiot.” He says flatly, “And I fucking hate you.”

Jace waves it off, still laughing, as he pounces at Alec with an arm around his neck. “Yeah, yeah, I’m an idiot, you hate me, let’s go.”

“Don’t ever say the word hole to me ever again.” Alec says crossly, red in the face, and Jace only snickers in return.

They’re making their way across the track when Jace blinks in remembrance.

“Oh, Magnus wants me to pass on a message.”

Alec looks at Jace, heart skipping. 

“What is it?”

Magnus is sitting on the bleachers as he’s done for the past half hour or so, flipping through his Physics notes, when the football team finally spills out of their change room and into the field. He closes his notebook, stuffs it into his open back pack, and pushes himself forward to settle his elbows onto his knees. As he watches, he can’t help but smile a little at the sight he sees.

All of them have the same green shirt with the same number and name on their backs. 

_22, Lightwood._

Even Coach Garroway is sporting the same shirt, and Lydia too, standing right next to him with a grin on her mouth and a clipboard tucked under her arm. Jace jogs out, blonde hair flapping about as it usually does and finds his spot next to Simon who is grinning happily.

Last to come out is none other than Alec Lightwood, hair fluffed to an extent Magnus has never seen before, eyes glassy. But what makes the difference is his smile. Magnus has never seen Alec smile like that; nervously joyful, like he can’t believe this is all happening. It breathtakingly encompasses his entire face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. 

Magnus feels pride swell in his chest as he sees Alec run out to the field into a circle of his teammates awaiting his presence. Arms reach out for him as he comes, and they enfold him into their huddle like he’s the final, most important piece. He clicks into place, and finally, they are whole. 

Alec deserves this kind of happiness, Magnus thinks. The boy who has a perpetual frown on his face, but also apologizes for the smallest inconveniences he causes. The boy who stands up when everybody else remains silently seated. The boy who’s hidden for all his life. 

The boy who’s finally fucking _free_.

And as if Alec hears his thoughts, his head whips towards his direction, green eyes and with hazel rings around it catching his at first try, like it will always know where to find them. His eyes that are buzzing with nervous excitement is undercut by tenderness, and it kisses at his face and softens his grin into a smile. 

It seems his message has been received.

Alec mouths at him. _Later?_

Magnus smiles back, nodding. _Later._

Everything that Sebastian tells him that afternoon comes back to him, and he can’t help but look on with helpless adoration. How fucking stupid Magnus has been to, number one, misread an entire situation _completely wrong_ , and number two, have convinced himself that he’s okay with Alec Lightwood being with someone else. 

Now, seeing Alec like this, Magnus realizes there’s really no way.

Coach Garroway asks for the team’s attention, and Alec smiles at him sheepishly, _I gotta go_. And shit, it makes Magnus soft from his head down to his toes. Alec ducks his head into their small huddle, and from afar he almost disappears among the throng of Lightwoods on the field.

He suddenly feels the cold, damp surface of a soda can press against his skin. Izzy gleefully tosses him the drink he’s been thirsting for, and Magnus catches it deftly with one hand, sighing gratefully. 

“You’re the best, Iz.”

“No use pointing out the obvious, but I’ll take it.” Izzy says as she takes a seat. Clary hops onto the spot next to her, swinging her bag off her shoulder. 

“Oh my gosh.” Clary whispers, fingers to her mouth as she takes in the sight on the field, “Look at them.”

“They all have Alec’s number on their backs.” Izzy softly murmurs, hands on her heart, “I’m gonna cry. I really am.”

Clary breathes, “They really did right by him.”

Magnus nods, warm smile on his face. “They did.”

The huddle breaks and they all start to scatter across the field, and for another moment, Alec’s eyes flickers onto Magnus’ like he can’t fucking help it, and finally focuses on the practice drill before him. Magnus feels his stomach crumple with something promising, and it makes him smile a small smile down onto his shoes. 

Izzy looks at Magnus, and then at her brother, and then at Magnus again. She slaps him on the shoulder. “Stop tenderly eye-fucking. You’re in a public place for god’s sake.”

A laugh spills from Magnus’ lips, and when he settles, he lets a teasing grin play on his mouth. “Get used to it.”

Izzy and Clary exchange wide-eyed looks and create the most high-pitched, wildly-gesticulated squeals Magnus has ever heard in his entire life. He can’t help but laugh. 

He cracks open his drink and is taking a sip from it when Izzy leans forward, eyes tracking something on the field. He frowns as he looks up, concerned.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Raj.” Izzy says seriously.

Magnus looks out to see Raj Bhandari sauntering into the middle of the field, hands in his pockets, and the play in motion steadily falters into a stop. 

Raj. Raj the world’s biggest fuck boy with the annoying girlfriend who won’t shut up. The same Raj who thinks dumping on Alec for not dating is a quirky personality trait. The same Raj who dared Alec to kiss a girl, and thus setting in motion everything that has happened to him the past five days. Magnus concernedly seeks out Alec right away, and he finds him by the thirty-yard line, stilled on his spot. 

It all unfolds before them like a scene in a play far away.

Magnus breathes. 

“Shit.”

“Hey.”

Alec looks to his left, and it’s Simon, looking at him gently.

“You okay, Alec?” he asks.

Alec feels himself nod small, eyes flickering back to Raj who has settled to a stop a few meters away. His shoulders are squared, mouth pressed into a thin line, hands shifting, dare Alec say, nervously within his pockets. He’s waiting.

“You guys stay.” He mutters, “I’ll go.”

Alec congratulates himself for saying those words like he’s sure of it, because he’s thoroughly not. He may have willed his feet to move, forced the lump on his throat down, but whatever this interaction is going to be, he doesn’t know if he’s ready. Raj has been a complicated figure in his life—an annoyance, for most part, but one that he’s learned to tolerate and accept for the past three years. All the things he does, as completely, offensively tone deaf as it is, he seems to do with intentions he thinks is pure. But does that excuse bad behavior?

Alec doesn’t fucking know. He’s not smart enough for this kind of things. 

He wishes Magnus is here. Closer than ‘here’. He wishes he’s right next to him. He would know what to do, and he would ease everything that simmers under his skin.

Alec finally finds himself at a spot he never thought he’d be: right across Raj Bhandari, and he placed himself there willingly, of no one else’s persuasion. It’s odd as hell.

“Hey.” Raj finally says, quiet.

Alec nods once, throat dry. “Hey.”

A swathe of silence. 

“You’re late.” Alec pointedly says, and it makes Raj quirk a barely-there smile.

“Yeah.” He says through a scratchy throat, “I didn’t think I should be here.”

Alec looks at him. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Raj shrugs weakly, eyes flickering down onto his feet, “I didn’t deserve to be here? I’m embarrassed?” 

Alec watches as something pushes and pulls within Raj, like he’s battling a hostile tide within him. He can barely meet his eyes, and he sputters as he speaks. It’s a distant picture from who he usually is. Alec is about to try to alleviate some of the unease that hangs in the air when Raj finally finds his words.

“ _People might start thinking you like dudes._ ” Raj repeats his past words gravely, and he winces at the sound of it aloud.

Something in Alec stings at the remembrance.

“I said that to you, my teammate of three years.” Raj mutters, remorseful, “What a fucking asshole move. Every time I hear it in my head, I hate myself for it.”

Alec doesn’t know what to say.

“It’s wrong.” Raj admits, “It’s wrong, and I realized it too late. I’m ignorant, and I should know better.”

Alec finds himself nodding. “Yeah, you should.”

“I’m sorry, Alec.” Raj says firmly, the steadiest he’s ever sounded since this conversation started, as if it’s the only thing he’s sure of, “I was a dick.”

Alec doesn’t need to grapple all that much for a decision. He makes it like he’s known what he’s going to say in this very moment all his life.

“Your forgiven.” He says.

“Yeah?” Raj asks, smiling a little.

Alec breathes out, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “But you got a lot to fucking learn.” 

Raj nods, brow creased. “I’ll do better. I promise.”

“Change into your gear.” Alec smirks, “You’re already half an hour late.”

“Will do, Vice-cap.” Raj grins a small grin, and before turning away he adds, “You did right picking Magnus, by the way. You two look good together.”

Alec rolls his eyes. “Go change.”

“Just saying,” Raj calls out as he jogs back towards the change room, “I’m glad you found someone who gets your dick wet!”

 _Instant regret_ , Alec thinks as he turns back to the rest of his team who is already doubled over in laughter. 

_Instant fucking regret._

“That felt pretty good,” Jace pants as they all converge onto centerfield, “How’d that look at your end?”

Lydia swipes at the iPad in her hands and presses start on a video she has taken of the play from bleachers. “Not bad at all.” she says as they all huddle over.

Coach Garroway points at the screen. “That’s a good throw Herondale, but remember to snap your thumb down.” He says, “Right here, Santiago, time that pass a little tighter for Lightwood to get to you—and Lightwood,”

 _Ah shit_ , Alec thinks, and he already feels himself going red.

“Definitely better the second time around, but you gotta focus. Sharpen the angle on that slant route, communicate with your receiver so you can get to him just right.” He says, and just to stir the pot, he raises his brow teasingly.

“Eyes on the ball, not your boyfriend.”

Alec grows even more flustered than he already is. “We’re not together,” he says, and he realizes he just fucking said _the thing_ yet again and he can’t have that, so he mumbles mostly to himself, “Yet.”

Simon grins, “Say that again?”

Alec throws him a warning glare.

“Okay, get out of here.” Coach Garroway calls out, “Good work everyone!”

The team start making their way off the field, a mindless, happy chatter rising from their group. Alec look up at the bleachers and sees Clary and Izzy packing up their stuff, and he wonders somewhat nervously where Magnus has gone. He doesn’t have to wonder all that much—he finds him standing across the track, hands tucked in the pockets of his varsity cheer letterman jacket, grinning widely.

He remembers the message that Jace relays to him earlier that afternoon.

 _Dot to me is what Sebastian is to you_ , and it’s amazing how one simple sentence offers so much clarity. Five days ago they’ve been stumbling over their words, reading each other’s actions with one eye closed, and suddenly, it’s as clear as day. Alec hates talking about anything remotely close to feelings, but this talk with Magnus, the one he desperately wants and needs, has been three years in the making.

Out of the periphery of his eyes, he sees the soccer team spill out of the change room and into open, ready to take over and claim their practice time on the field. One of them, Victor Aldertree, resident human shit bag, walks out with his idiot gofers snickering loudly at some dumb thing he just said. Alec watches as he comes up from behind Magnus and shoulders him out of the way.

“Move.” He says loudly, and it makes something dark and angry rise quickly within Alec.

Magnus scoffs, recovering from the push easily. “Away from you? Always, Aldertree.”

Alec’s steps grows faster and faster, getting to a point where he’s almost running. He hears Jace and Simon and footfalls of many others following his stride, but all he’s seeing is Magnus, again, being targeted by Aldertree for no apparent reason.

“Hey, fuck off!” Alec growls, and Magnus places a hand on the underside of his arm, holding him back.

“It’s fine.” Magnus says gently, smiling, “Not worth it, crinkles. Let it go.”

The ‘crinkles’ got to him. The glare that Alec trails Aldertree with softens so much so quickly it’s embarrassing. He allows Magnus to lead him towards the locker rooms. 

Aldertree should really have left it alone, but he sneers like he always does. “Good, stay away from me!” he yells jeeringly, “I don’t want your gay shit coming after me too!”

“Look what you did to Lightwood!”

Magnus stops.

“Disgusting shit!”

Aldertree should have just shut the fuck up.

Magnus sits alone in an empty classroom, nursing a sore fist. He spreads his fingers out, and sighs at the sight of a broken nail. _Unfortunate_ , he thinks. Just when he’s started to master the art of painting nails. 

Aldertree hadn’t been the first person he’d punched, but he had been the first person he’s bodied into the ground with a tackle that would’ve made Coach Garroway proud. He knows this because the coach said so after dragging him off the bruised and bloodied face of Victor Aldertree who had been reduced into a sputtering mess after one punch. It hadn't even been his best punch either. The first and best one had been a boy named Lucas, who had pulled on a classmate’s pigtail so much and so hard that by the fifth pull, she had burst into tears. It was second grade. His mother had to have a talk with the principal, but naval officer and coolest mom ever Surya Bane had different opinions. Magnus got to pick ice cream as a secret reward that day. 

“You really didn’t have to.” 

Magnus looks up to see Alec hovering by the door, back pack slung on a shoulder, hands on his pockets. He’s changed out of his uniform and into a hoodie and jeans, and he’s smiling at him in a way that’s half sheepish, half teasing. He looks _wonderful._

Alec walks towards him, somewhat awkwardly sliding his bag off his shoulder before siddling into the seat next to him. A perfect mirror image of the one and only other time they were in detention together. Alec could laugh; oh, how the tables have turned.

Alec looks at him pointedly. “I thought we weren’t punching people anymore.” 

It makes Magnus chuckle. “Point taken,” he says teasingly, “Next time Aldertree comes after you, I’ll stand back.”

They both laugh at their little inside joke, and the sound of it is musical to each other’s ears. Magnus shakes his head slightly.

“I couldn’t let him talk to you like that.” He murmurs, “Nobody should be talked to like that. Specially you.”

Alec smiles a little. “Thanks for standing up for me. You didn’t have to hurt yourself though.”

Magnus turns to him completely, props an elbow on his table, temple to the bottom of his hand. He grins at him. “You can kiss it better.”

Alec opens his mouth, trying to conjure up words he wants to say, but just feels embarrassed. But instead of letting panic spike up his spine, he lets laughter bubble from his chest. He laughs into his hands, hiding momentarily as if to settle the heat on his cheeks. Magnus is smiling so happily like he hadn’t punched somebody on the face and he’s serving detention for it.

Alec shakes his head. “Jesus, I’m not good at this.”

Magnus shrugs, grinning. Whatever Alec thinks he’s not good at, Magnus doesn’t see it. He’s so stupidly perfect in his eyes it’s both annoying and endearing at the same time. 

“How about I start.” Magnus says, and it lifts Alec’s eyes to his. “I don’t like Dot that way.”

Alec smiles slightly. “And I don’t like Sebastian that way.” 

“Then who, pray tell,” Magnus tries to say as innocently as he can, as if he doesn’t already know, “Do you like?”

Alec raises a brow. “Who do _you_ like?”

Magnus leans back, a coy smile on his face. “I suddenly don’t remember anymore.”

Alec rolls his eyes, nothing but fondness behind it. “Didn’t know this was supposed to a competition.”

Magnus snickers, leaning forward like he’s issuing a challenge. “Am I just supposed to let you win?” 

Alec shakes his head, laughing, and looks at Magnus, really looks at him, and feels something shift. He realizes he can’t and he won’t ever square up. In every playful contest, in every little argument that they would potentially have down the line, Alec would let Magnus win, everytime, anytime.

“No,” Alec says, smiling softly, “You win.”

Magnus smiles back contentedly, and Alec pulls at everything he has quietly tucked away within his chest for the past three years. Every small urge to find Magnus in a crowd, every split-second need to engage him in conversation, every little desire to cut away the cautious distance between the two of them. He lays them all out on the table, bares everything for Magnus to see. 

“I like you.” Alec says, _admits_ , gentle in the way he does, “For the last three years, I've liked you.”

He laughs softly, “Since we met actually. Just wasn’t quite ready that time.”

Magnus smiles so warmly he feels like the sun. “I’m glad you’re ready now.”

“And I like you too, Alexander.” He says, and Alec’s full name on Magnus’ tongue is where exactly it belongs, “Very much.”

“Yeah?” Alec says with a grin.

Magnus laughs. “Yeah.”

“Magnus,” Alec says, worried all of a sudden, a realization dawning, “I’m not gonna be good.”

Doubt seeps deep into the line of his shoulder, stiffening it. Alec looks concerned, and Magnus hates that he does. When he speaks, he is timid, fingers finding the spot on the base of his palm, pressing nervously. 

“I haven’t done this before.”

Magnus hums, and it’s just like before. He leans across their space, elbows on his knees. It draws Alec closer to him like they’re two polar ends of a magnet. Magnus smiles. “Good thing there’s two of us, huh?”

Alec’s worry gives way to relief. He chuckles breathlessly. “I guess so.”

Magnus reaches out, takes the Alec’s hand that’s pressing into the other, stilling it. He unclasps them, places them against his chest, a familiar place. Alec’s fingers curl against Magnus’ jacket instinctively. 

Magnus winks, grinning. “Show ‘em.” 

Alec could only grin back. With Magnus’ permission tucked within his chest, he gives his jacket a tug and with all the softness he can muster, catches lips against lips. He kisses Magnus like he hasn't kissed him before at all, like it's new and uncharted and breathtaking. Magnus presses his mouth against Alec's, simply but thoroughly, full of promise. His fingers settles at the base of his neck, grazing his hair, and it makes Alec’s heart flutter.

A howl echoes from the door.

“Get it Lightwood!” 

Alec looks back with complete annoyance to see his team squished through the door, all fourteen of them clapping and howling and grinning. Izzy and Clary is somewhere within the huddle of people, grinning widely and contributing their fair share of squealing. Jace and Simon leads the commotion and there is truly no other moment where Alec both loves and hate his team in equal measures than this one that's currently transpiring. Magnus only laughs, and of course he finds it all joyfully amusing.

“Aww, they want you to get it.” He snickers, and Alec rolls his eyes at him.

“Please, for the love of god, don’t encourage their shit.”

“Get back in there, Vice-cap!” Underhill hollers, and it rises another wave of hooting and whistling.

Magnus grins at him. “Well? You heard the people.”

Alec fondly rolls his eyes and tugs Magnus in.

By the time they both step out of Idris High, the sun barely peeks out of the horizon.

Alec doesn’t realize he’s looking at Magnus until he actually points it out.

“What is it?” Magnus asks, smiling.

Alec shakes his head, smiling small himself. “Nothing.”

They make their way to the parking lot and Alec walks Magnus to his car.

Magnus turns to Alec. “Good night, Alexander.”

Alec bites onto his lower lip, trying to corral his smile. “Good night, Magnus.”

They drive off in different cars for the last time that school year.


	6. Alec Lightwood Wants to Hold His Boyfriend’s Hand, Goddammit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec lets the sentiment sink within him—he’s dating Magnus. He has a boyfriend, and it’s Magnus, the kindest, most beautiful person who knows. He then remembers the thought that came to him the first time he had met him—how it felt like to be the kind of free than Magnus represented. Now he gets to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to Fluff Town, the capital of Squeal Nation! This is the pinnacle of tropiness for my entire 14 years of writing fic, and I enjoyed every second of it. Admittedly there's a kiss of angst here and there but I guess we need ~character development~ too? I have a bunch of fic-related goodies linked here if you're interested! 
> 
> 1) My lovely friend Anouk drew fanart for this fic and I'm completely amazed and baffled by it. [Click here to view it!](https://twitter.com/musxcxsfeelxng/status/1239734403653406720?s=20)  
> 2) I've also made a Spotify mixtape of songs I've been listening to while writing this fic. [Find it here!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3kXrVt3Db7V6jfSAKWjH5w?si=AakwNXgxQxKzokCjLbQybQ)
> 
> Anyways, I'm back to @nhixxie on twitter and I follow @nhixxiefic if you're into livetweeting. 
> 
> Enjoy!

When Sophomore Magnus Bane arrived at the Lightwood residence in search of Izzy, he hadn’t expected _this._ He had rung the doorbell and poked his head in cautiously in hope of catching her just in time, but who he had caught instead is Maryse Lightwood’s attention from the open concept kitchen.

“Come in, please!” She says brightly, already pulling out an extra plate from the cabinet, “Izzy ran off to buy something half an hour ago, so she should be back soon. Me and Alec are just about ready for lunch, why don’t you join us?”

Magnus really just wanted to run through a couple of things with Izzy. It’s supposed to be just a twenty-minute thing, tops, and he’s back to his usual Saturday morning of cycling through every trash TV show he could muster before going back to his creative writing assignment. But the Lightwood matriarch is looking at him in that kind way she always does, and before Magnus knows it, he’s taken a step into the foyer of the house.

So now, he’s having lunch with the Lightwoods.

“Alec, can you shoot your sister a text?” Maryse says, “Tell her Magnus is waiting for her.”

Magnus glances at the ever so elusive Alec Lightwood, a slight, amicable smile on his mouth. Alec returns the look momentarily, alongside a slightly awkward but genuine quirk of the lips.

_Christ, this is awkward._

It’s been a good four months since they’ve met, and it’s been four months of minutely acknowledging each other from across rooms but not really doing more than that. There’s the little thing in the library—still one unreturned book under his name—but aside from that, nothing else. Magnus knowing Alec’s secret means they’re both bonded by a common knowledge that is too intimate for them to be able to dismiss each other. Not that Magnus wants to. He just finds it incredibly tricky to be Izzy’s close friend and Alec’s secret confidante, while also maybe harbouring something for Alec he couldn’t quite place yet.

On top of _all that_ , Magnus doesn’t even know Alec’s state of affairs with his family yet. Does Maryse know? Does Izzy, does Jace? Is this lunch or a dangerous minefield?

The Lightwoods are going to be the end of Magnus Bane, one way or another. 

Maryse pulls him out of his reverie. “So, Magnus, how’s school?” 

One thing is certain today, and it’s that Magnus very much likes Dr. Maryse Lightwood. She’s warmly personable, and in a particular way that doesn’t sing of falsities. When she talks to you, she’s really interested in what you have to say. It makes the longing in Magnus’ chest for his own mom rise like a tide. 

Magnus tries to say back just as warmly, “Not as smoothly as I hope but it’s going. It’s been a bit busier with extra curriculars on top of it, but I’m managing.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great.” Maryse notes, twirling pasta with a fork, “You’re a smart kid, I can tell.”

Magnus chuckles a bit. “I’m okay, but I’m no Alec.”

Alec snorts, and the nonchalance of it surprises Magnus somewhat. “Right.”

Magnus’ brow rises as he regards Alec with mild amusement. It’s unusual to see an Alec completely steeped with the comfort of his own home. He’s more relaxed, and his words come out of loose, less guarded lips.

He turns to Maryse slightly. “Your son is also quite humble.”

Maryse leans over, as if to share a small secret. “Humble isn’t he word. He just doesn’t like being fuzzed over.”

Magnus releases a soft _oh_ , eyes dancing with mirth. “I see.”

Alec responds with a roll of the eyes, no real heat behind it, and shovels a forkful of pasta into his mouth. Magnus notes with muted wonder that this is how Alec Lightwood looks like when he's fondly annoyed. It’s quite adorable. 

Izzy takes her sweet time, and Magnus finds he doesn’t really mind at all. Their awkward little back and forths ease into relaxed conversations, their condensed laughter fluttering about the house. Even the usually tight-lipped Alec can’t help the small smiles and the occasional chuckles that escape his lowered guard. When they finish with lunch, Alec rises to his feet to collect their plates. 

“I got it.” He says, and Maryse smiles up at him gratefully. 

“Thanks hun.”

Maryse’s phone rings and she excuses herself momentarily, moving to the living room for some privacy.

Alec looks over his shoulder. “Probably the hospital. She’s on call.”

Magnus can’t make out what she’s saying from afar, but it seems serious. “Your mom’s awesome.”

“Yeah.” Alec agrees, loading the dishes into the dishwasher, “Three kids, single parent, ICU attending. Sometimes I don’t know how she does it.”

Magnus smiles. “Well, she has good kids.”

Alec squints slightly, a small smirk on his mouth. “She has at least one good kid.”

“So Izzy.” Magnus quips with a grin, and it pulls a true laugh from Alec. It reaches all the way to the corners of his eyes, bright and resplendent, and it draws soft lines around them. 

_Oh_ , Magnus thinks faintly. 

Magnus veers himself back with a slight cough. “Where is she?” he just about stammers but catches himself quickly. “Izzy, I mean?”

Alec swipes at his phone again and finds one reply. “She stopped by Clary’s, but she’s coming home soon, she said.”

“Thank you.” Magnus says, leaning back onto the kitchen island again as Alec busies himself with wiping down the dining table. 

Maryse climbs the stairs up to the second floor, still speaking in a steady tone.

“Must be really serious if she’s going.” Alec mutters, as he comes back to the sink. He lets the water run through the cloth, hands wringing it tightly a couple of times before setting it aside to dry. 

Magnus takes for himself a tentative glance at Alec, a question heavy on the tip of his tongue, one that he's kept there since he took his seat for lunch with Maryse and Alec. He mulls the thought carefully in his mind—does he have the right to ask it? Will Alec even acknowledge it, or will he simply knock it out of the way like the first time they met? Magnus is intuitive, and he reads people quite well. He goes with his gut.

“Does your mom know?” he asks kindly. 

He watches the line of Alec’s shoulder from behind. It doesn’t stiffen, but the words stop the motions of his hands under the pour of water from the faucet. With a flick of the fingers, the tap is turned off. For a split-second Magnus doubts his decision, but Alec turns to him with his eyes softened with a sense of introspection. 

“She knows.” He answers, words quiet. 

Magnus nods slowly, pacing his questions. “Izzy?”

“Yeah.”

Magnus treads carefully. “Jace?”

Alec looks a bit lost.

“No.” he mutters, and his hands find themselves pressed together like Magnus has seen him do before, fingers digging deeply into the bulk of his palm. 

“I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. And I don’t know when I’ll be.”

Magnus stills Alec’s moving hands with his, a comforting gesture. He catches him on the wrist, pads of fingers pressed consolingly against his skin. Alec doesn't pull away, instead shifts within his hold like he's seeking something more but doesn't allow himself to have it. Here, within the walls of the Lightwood house, surrounded by the acceptance of his family, he's safe. Magnus knows that if its anywhere other than here, he wouldn't have Alec's skin against his. Magnus wouldn't even dare reach out.

“You'll know. I promise you, you will.” Magnus just about whispers, “And you'll feel it so strongly you wouldn't know where the hell it came from.”

“And when you do, I'll be there to help.”

Alec lets silence bleed for a heartbeat and nods. He’s not completely convinced of what role Magnus would play in that fateful day, but having his promise tucked within his chest makes a difference. He smiles despite the slightness of it.

“Thank you.”

Magnus draws his hand back.

“Okay,” Magnus says brightly, “What do you do to pass the time?”

“Shit, sorry!” Izzy exclaims, and Magnus rises from where he’s sitting on the front porch, “I got stuck in traffic! Did you wait long?”

Magnus waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about it. Your brother kept me company for a while.”

Izzy throws him an apologetic glance over the box she’s cradling within her arms. “I’m so sorry! Did he give you a hard time? He’s not exactly warm and fuzzy.”

Magnus can’t help but smile a little, the memory of a bright smile and crinkly eyes coming back to him.

“No,” he says, “He was fine.”

The sun is still plunged deep below the horizon when Izzy jumps onto Alec’s bed, still in her pajamas, hair tied in a crazy bun that is leaning precariously to one side.

Alec rolls over, sleepily annoyed.

“You have a boyfriend.” Izzy whispers in excitement, “Alec, _you have a boyfriend_.”

Alec grumpily swats Izzy’s hands away, tossing beneath his blanket. “Izzy, it’s six in the fucking morning..” he groans.

“So?” she asks, “You’re awake by six fifteen.”

He flips onto his belly, voice muffled into the pillow. “Every minute counts, you asshole.”

Izzy kicks him in the ass, literally. “You’ve been out for a week and you’ve managed to convince your crush to date you.” She laughs, “God, Alec, do you actually have _game_?”

Alec would laugh if he isn’t so damn sleepy. If game is five days of stupidly misunderstanding the most basic principles of flirting and feeling sorry for himself for no apparent reason, then maybe yes, he does have game. 

“I had a lot of help.” He mumbles, “I guess I should thank you.”

Izzy only smiles. “You’re welcome.”

She sits on the mattress with her back against the head board. She flicks Alec on the ear. “Listen idiot, Magnus is an early riser, so you better get your good morning texts in by six thirty.”  
`  
Alec blinks blearily, flopping onto his back. “Good morning texts?”

Izzy looks at him like he’s deluded. “Yeah.” She says, “It’s a couples thing.”

If Alec wasn’t awake awhile ago, he is now. He passes a hand over his mouth, staring worriedly at his ceiling. “I didn’t know.” He croaks, sleep still heavy in his voice, “I don’t know anything.”

He takes a deep breath .

“I feel like I’m in over my head, Iz.” Alec admits.

Izzy looks down at him gently, mouth pressed together. “Look, forget what I said.” She decides to say, “It’s stupid.”

“Just do what you feel.” She continues gently, “You’ve liked Magnus for three years. The things you’ve wished you can say or do for all that time, you can now. That’s kind of amazing.”

Alec lets the sentiment sink within him—he’s dating Magnus. He has a boyfriend, and it’s _Magnus_ , the kindest, most beautiful person who knows. He then remembers the thought that came to him the first time he had met him—how it felt like to be the kind of free that Magnus represented. Now he gets to know. _With_ Magnus. Though he can’t help but feel happy at the thought, something tugs him back, a trepidation he can’t quite place. 

“So what do you want to do?” Izzy asks, smiling knowingly.

He reaches over to his side table for his phone and swipes it open. He finds their message thread, fresh from last night’s short bedtime conversation, only twelve hours old. He hovers thumbs over the letters. 

**_Good morning, Magnus_ **

Alec tosses his phone on the bed, and Izzy grins at him.

“Do I get to use the car since Magnus is picking you up?”

Alec smirks. “Have you figured out the difference between gas and brake?”

Izzy wet willies his left ear as an act of revenge. 

Alec is brushing his teeth when his phone pings.

**_Good morning, Alexander <3_ **

He grins around his toothbrush so hard a glob of toothpaste drips on his shirt. 

It’s stupid how much power one emoji has over a human being.

Magnus steadily slows down, eyes watching the houses until he finds the one painted maroon with bare wood trimmings. He puts his car in park and shoots Alec a quick text.

He’s always loved the Lightwood house. It looks like something from those cabin living magazines, transplanted from a lake-side property right in the middle of suburban New York. Large driveway, tall windows. He knows the house well, as Izzy has been kind enough to offer their large stretch of backyard as a frequent hangout place for the past three years they’ve known each other. 

It’s unusual to be here for anybody other than Izzy, but it’s a good unusual. And Magnus is nervous. The happy kind. He hasn’t been happily nervous for something in a while. Life has been a steady stream of school and cheer and college conversations until Alec crossed that field with a request held tight within the palm of his hand. 

And _jesus_ has life changed ever since. 

He sees Alec slip out of his door with Izzy in tow, and the sight of him immediately pulls Magnus’ mouth into a smile. He watches as Alec tosses his car keys to Izzy who catches it in one hand, and they both make their way down Magnus’ parked car. 

“Hey.” Alec murmurs, somewhere in the middle of awkward and happy, and Magnus feels all warm and fluttery inside. 

Magnus smiles. “Hello, Alexander.”

“Ooh, _Alexander_.” Izzy coos as Alec opens the car door and slips in, “Starting nice and strong, huh, Magnus?”

Magnus leans forward as Alec buckles in and that little distance that gets cut away between them affords Alec a whiff of Magnus’ cologne. _Fuck_ , Alec thinks helplessly, _he smells good_. And if he leans forward even a little he would be able to brush his lips _ever so lightly on the shell of his ear_ —

 _Lightwood_ , Alec pleads silently, eyes scrunching close momentarily, _Please, for the love of god, get it the fuck together._

“Driving to school this morning, Iz?” Magnus asks, unaware of the mental breakdown Alec is enduring. 

Izzy jingles the keys. “Yes, and I’m picking up Clary because I guess now we’re being tossed aside for the boyfriend.”

Magnus chuckles, shaking his head. “Love you Izzy, drive safe.”

Izzy points a finger at them. “Hey!” she warns, “No road head, at least park the car—”

“Drive, please, now,” Alec says, panicked, and Magnus laughingly pulls out of his parking spot before Izzy can even finish her sentence. 

Alec sighs, fingers pressed against the crease on his brow, “I pleaded the universe for a brother.”

Magnus laughs. “Izzy would be the same as a boy or a girl.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Alec says, despondent.

There’s a bit of silence that pushes between them, and it’s not uncomfortable by any means, but Alec wants to fill it. He’s waited for so damn long for Magnus to be within arms reach of him to waste passing minutes like this.

“You look nice, Magnus.” Alec lets himself say, and he means it down to his core.

“Thank you, Alexander.” Magnus says, and he’s smiling so warmly that it shuts Alec’s brain up completely. “You too.”

Alec makes a funny noise. “Sure.”

“What?” Magnus laughs, “You don’t believe me?”

Alec laughs and narrows an eye suspiciously. “Yeah, because the hoodie and jeans combo really measure up.”

“Admittedly, the hoodie and jeans are basic,” Magnus grins, voice sing-song, “But the eyes make up for it.”

He stops at a traffic light, looks at him momentarily, enamoured. “And those little curls at the side of your head.” 

Magnus reaches out to softly tangle fingers in Alec’s hair. 

He turns his attention back to the lights before him, but his fingers continue to gently tousle the waves that sweep along the side of head, wrist settled at the curve of his shoulder as he does. _Jesus christ_ Alec can’t breathe. All he can feel and hear and think of are the gentle motions that tumble by the shell of his ear and down the nape of his neck and _fuck_ Magnus is good at that.

The light turns green and Magnus slips his hand off Alec’s shoulder, and Alec wishes he had the guts to catch that hand and just hold it. He reminds himself he can do that now, and that he doesn’t need to seize every feeling he has towards Magnus before it escapes him. 

“I liked that way too much.” Alec mumbles, and Magnus laughs. 

“Good,” he says cheekily, “Because I’ve waited three years to do that, and that’s definitely not the last time I’m doing it.”

“You’ve liked me for three years?” Alec teases a little, “How embarrassing.”

Magnus rolls his eyes, chuckling. “Dummy.”

They drive on and Alec selfishly looks at him, longer this time, not like the brief, stolen seconds he’d survived on the past three years. Shit, Magnus is _beautiful_. He’s known this for a long time, but having nothing but a couple of feet between them gives Alec a view he hasn’t let himself have before. He lets his gaze flutter about; around kohl-lined eyes, down the slope of a perfect nose, a chiselled jaw. Nail-polished fingers tapping a beat against the steering wheel, the same ones that had just flit about in his hair. He feels an itch in his hand that runs so deep that Alec knows it won’t be solved by a scratch. 

_Jesus, Lightwood, you’re his boyfriend, go hold his hand if you want to._

“Here, play your favorite song.” Magnus says, grinning as he passes Alec his unlocked phone, “And yes, I will be judging you for your choice, big time.” 

Alec teasingly plays You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift and Magnus laughs so much it forms tears in his eyes.

That morning’s walk down the hallway has been equal parts awful and great. 

Alec had expected the probing eyes and hushed whispers and the huddled throng of high school students watching their every move. He’d even expect Izzy, Clary, Jace, and Simon excitedly waiting for them by their lockers like their first entrance into Idris High as official boyfriends is the spectacle of the year. So walking in, he knows the shit he’d have to bear. 

But Magnus presses himself onto his side, a warm, reassuring presence, and threads their fingers together like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

He smiles up at him, easing his trepidation. 

“Come on, crinkles.” He whispers happily. 

For the first time in the history of ever, the general public sees Alec Lightwood smile, right up to the corners of his eyes, bringing forth the very lines that inspires the nickname. It feels like the brightest, most open smile he’s ever had on his face, and everybody else seems to breathlessly agree. Someone gasps somewhere to the left, and it’s so ridiculous Magnus has to bite onto his lower lip to corral a snicker. 

When they get to their lockers, the Support Squad is grinning at both of them so hard they can almost hear their jaws creak. 

“Shut up.” Alec grumbles as they arrive.

Magnus tries not to laugh.

“We didn’t even say anything!” Simon exclaims.

Alec glares at them all. “I can hear your smiles from across the hall. It’s disturbing.”

Jace looks like he’s barely holding it together. “We’re being supportive.” he says defensively, mouth twitching with withheld laughter. 

Alec rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, real supportive.”

Izzy waves a hand. “Ignore them, they’re idiots.” she winks, “So how’s the drive to school? Any ten-minute detours—” 

Clary covers her mouth with her hand, a small noise at the back of her throat a laugh she tamps down immediately, and she gives Izzy a small reprimanding slap to the arm. Magnus looks up at Alec in amusement and sees color rise in him so fast one would think it’s a damn competition. Finally taking pity on him, he quips instead.

“It was great, Iz.” He says, grinning, “How was yours? Hit any poles this time around?”

The entire circle bursts into laughter, and Izzy gasps. “You little—” 

Magnus laughs as he slips out of Alec’s hand and runs a swift circle around him, Izzy right on his tail, and Alec, for the first time in his life, experiences what it feels like to be used as a human shield by his boyfriend. Jace, Simon, and Clary snickers at the entire thing like the instigators they are, and it’s all dumb and silly and absolutely ridiculous and Alec laughs at it fully, heart bursting with happiness.

Izzy gets him with a tickle right at his side, and it collapses a yelping Magnus behind Alec, who winds arms around his waist, peeking under his elbow, eyes wide.

“You know I hate that!” Magnus huffs, and Alec holds one hand out.

“Okay Iz, you got one in.”

“Abandons the sister for the boyfriend, typical.” Izzy teasingly squints at Magnus, gives him an _I’m watching you_ gesture. “I’m gonna get you, Magnus, you wait!”

Clary calls out, “See you at World Lit?”

“Alec, you coming soon? We got five minutes to get to class.” Jace says, just about ready to park a shoulder on one of the nearby lockers when Izzy grabs both Simon and Jace by the wrist. 

“Come on,” She mumbles, dragging them along, “Clueless idiots..”

She turns to the both of them. “Don’t be late!”

With a relieved sigh, Magnus pats Alec’s other hand that had unwittingly settled against his neck, and finally emerges from underneath Alec’s arm. Alec stupidly hates the fact that Magnus isn’t pressed against him anymore. 

“Didn’t expect to break a sweat so early in the day.” Magnus laughs, reaching out for a textbook and slipping it into his unzipped backpack.

Alec quirks his mouth into a small smile as he does the same with his Physics textbook. “I’ve had quieter mornings.”

Magnus closes his locker and slings his backpack onto one shoulder. He peeks over Alec’s locker door. “How about lunch?”

Alec looks at him curiously. “How about lunch what?”

“We can have a quiet lunch, just the two of us.” Magnus says, “West building, rooftop?”

Magnus smiles warmly at him and that’s all it really takes.

Alec nods, stomach fluttering about. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Okay. See you then, Alexander.” Magnus brightly says, draws himself up on his tip toes and presses a quick kiss on his cheek.

Magnus walks off and gives him a small wave, which Alec returns, eyes hazy, still stuck on the feeling of lips on his skin.

 _Fuck_ , Alec thinks to himself, _I’m so whipped_.

Last class until lunch time rolls in and Alec slips into his seat, arriving fifteen minutes earlier than everyone else. A heady buzz of quiet excitement simmers under his skin. He’s looking forward to lunch. It sounds disgustingly cheesy and would never openly admit to it, but he already kind of misses Magnus. Staring down at his phone trying not to grin at his messages has been tiding him over, but he wants the real deal.

There’s only so many times he can recollect the feeling of Magnus’ mouth on his cheek from this morning, and frankly, Alec Lightwood is parched. 

“Hey.” Lydia greets, taking the seat right next to him, “We’re planning to have lunch outside school. You and Magnus in?”

Alec coughs, adjusting himself within his chair. “You guys go ahead.”

Lydia looks at him with mild horror. “You’re braving meatloaf Monday?”

“No.” Alec says slowly, fingers tapping onto his desk, “I brought lunch.”

Lydia breaks into a grin that reaches her ears, and already Alec groans. “Alec Lightwood, are you having your first lunch date with your boyfriend?”

“Stop it.” 

“ _Fuck_ that’s cute!” Lydia exclaims, a hand on her heart, “Where? Don’t tell me the cafeteria, that place is gross and noisy.”

Alec chews on the inside of his lower lip. “Roof top, west building?”

Lydia covers her mouth, eyes dancing with mirth. “Oh my gosh.” She whispers, “Alec. That’s so fucking romantic!” 

She looks at him with gentle pride, chin propped onto her palm. “Alec Lightwood has a boyfriend and is the happiest he’s ever been. Wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes.”

Alec rolls his eyes, fond. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I was a bit surprised when you came out,” Lydia admits, “But I had a feeling for a while now.”

“And you’ve never told me?” Alec asks.

Lydia shrugs. “I figured it’s your secret to share.”

Alec looks at her. “What gave it away?”

“Honestly?” Lydia mulls a small thought, “It’s the way you look at Magnus.”

“You just always seem to find him in a room.” Lydia says, “And it’s small looks, split-second ones. Glances you think no one can see. But every time, you look just a tiny bit happier.”

Alec can’t help but look at Lydia with muted wonder. He’s said it before; she has a habit of being acutely observant about things that matter. It isn’t a surprise she figured it out. He’s known Lydia for as long as he’s been going to Idris High, and there’s no one more observant, no one more astute. 

And because she’s observant and astute, she says, “I hope you two are being safe.”

Alec would find it ridiculous if he isn’t so busy with blushing from his head down to his toes. He mutters, “Lyds, we’ve been dating for less than twenty-four hours.”

“Have you though?” she asks, “You’ve been wandering around each other’s radars for the past three years.”

Alec breathes out, profusely staring down at a spot on his palm. “If it gets to that point, I promise we’ll be safe.”

“Good.” Lydia says, but still, a thoughtful look fills her eyes. “Can I ask you something?” 

Alec turns to her expectantly, a silent _go on_ in the way he looks at her.

“So I said I was a bit surprised when you came out.” Lydia says, “But it's not because you did, or who you kissed. It's when you did.” 

“Raj has always been an asshole, and you shut him down every time. And when he dared you to kiss someone, you could have said no.” she says, brow creased with curiosity.

“What was the last straw?”

Alec gives himself a moment. Him coming out feels like an event that has transpired a long time ago, when in truth it's only been a week. So many things have happened in the spaces between then and now that he hasn't actually parsed through what he had felt in that collection of seconds. He's somewhat fearful of what he wants to say, but also finds that he wants to say it—that he's so sick of bottling shit up to the point of maximum pressure. So he answers, because this is Lydia, and this is about himself, and this is about Magnus too. 

“I don’t think I’ve told anybody this, but when I met Magnus three years ago, he knew right away who I was.”

“Ever since then, even if he doesn’t say it out loud he would always tell me, _when you’re ready, I’m here to help_.” Alec says, gaze suspended in reminiscence but with a smile true, “It doesn’t matter whether I ignored it or flat out refused it. The one constant thing is that he was always there.”

“He told me once that when I’m ready, I’ll know. I’ll feel it so strongly I wouldn't know where it came from.”

“It wasn’t when Raj told me to kiss a girl that I knew.” Alec can’t help but laugh a little, head shaking in realization, “Wasn’t even when I got up to go.”

Lydia listens on, a sweet smile on her mouth. 

“It was when I saw him.” Alec admits.

He says, so definitive yet so tender at the same time, “Magnus was the last straw.”

“That was damn beautiful, Alec.” Lydia says with a teasing shove on his shoulder, “I hope Magnus gets to hear that too.”

Alec breathes out, the same trepidation curling tendrils around his chest again.

“I’m working on it.”

Alec emerges from staircase that opens up to the rooftop of the west building.

The place has been used exclusively by the gardening club for their vegetable plots, all fifteen wooden boxes with all sorts of greenery sprouting about. A small, simply constructed wooden canopy stands at the far end of the rooftop, shielding some of the more sun-sensitive potted plants. He finds Magnus underneath it, sitting cross-legged on a fuzzy, bright pink blanket that definitely isn’t meant to be used for picnic purposes. Alec tries not to laugh warmly at the image as he makes his way somewhat nervously towards the canopy. 

“That blanket’s for sleeping.” Alec notes amusedly when he finally settles to a stop.

Magnus teases, “ _Gosh_ , is it really? I knew I have a smart boyfriend, but I didn’t know he’s _this_ smart.” He grins up at him.

Alec kicks his shoes off as he says humorously, “Sassy pants. Where’d you get this thing anyways?”

“From the back of my trunk.” Magnus says as he reaches for his lunch bag, “I’m always prepared.”

Alec snorts as he takes the saran wrap off of his sandwich. “You have a contingency plan for picnics?” he asks, handing half of the BLT over to Magnus who takes it gratefully.

“No, I have a contingency plan for when it gets too cold and I need extra warmth.” He answers pointedly before taking a bite off the sandwich.

Alec tries not to laugh. “So you just walk around school with this on?” 

Magnus chews, mulling a thought. “I haven’t been _that_ desperate yet.”

There’s some kind of joke Alec wants to say about wanting desperately to audition for the role of Blanket Wrapped Around Magnus 24/7, but something tugs him back. It’s so annoying, this constant state of emotional constipation. If running away from vulnerability is a sport, Alec would make varsity, no question. 

Magnus hands him a pair of chopsticks.

“Did you make this?” Alec asks, looking wondrously at the rolls of sushi and other little snacks at the side.

Magnus nods happily, taking another bite from his half of the sandwich. “Look,” he pokes at a piece of sausage, grinning, “It looks like a baby octopus.”

Alec can’t help but laugh, and the next sentiment isn’t just for the octopus-shaped piece of meat. “Cute.” 

They spend their time eating their food and splitting a can of soda between the two of them. They talk about their morning classes and how heavy the workload is going to be for them in the coming weeks. Magnus animatedly tells Alec about the youtube tutorial he watched to learn how to make the stuff he brought today, and how it involves a pleasant Japanese woman cooking with her dog sitting right beside her, ‘narrating’ the instructions in English. Alec tells Magnus about how they used to have a family dog, but with his parent’s divorce, Shadow ended up staying with his dad along with his younger brother, Max. Magnus doesn’t probe any further, but instead pushes stray strands of hair away from Alec’s forehead. 

By the time they’ve finished lunch, Magnus is sprawled along the length of the blanket, one earbud in, head cradled within Alec’s lap. 

“Hey.” Alec murmurs, and Magnus blinks up at him. 

“Hm?”

Alec’s fingers find themselves treading along the line of Magnus jaw, tracing it like a picture. 

“If I seem cold, I’m sorry.” He says quietly.

Magnus looks at him, eyes soft.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m kind of emotionally constipated.” Alec admits, one corner of his mouth quirked into an embarrassed smile. “For most of my life I’ve held back. And now that I get to have all this, I’m a bit lost.”

“I just need you to know that just because I’m not reaching to hold your hand or kissing you in front of everybody doesn’t mean I don’t want to.” he mutters, “Every single second, I’m dying to.”

“And I hope you think about that while I work through my shit.”

A beat of silence fills the air until Magnus shifts a little in Alec's lap, smiling tenderly. “Okay.”

Alec nods slightly, smiling back. “Okay.”

“C’mere, I got something to tell you too.” Magnus says, motioning for him to come closer. 

Alec raises a brow. “Oh, really.”

Magnus tries not to laugh. “Yeah, really. Closer. It’s important. Top priority.”

“That’s pushing it.” Alec snickers, hovering closer.

“Just—closer,” Magnus urges under his breath, eyes dancing with mirth, “You’ll really regret laughing at me when I tell you this life-altering information.”

Alec presses closer, and thank god for toe touches and general athleticism, because all he feels is a slightly nagging stretch across his back. Magnus reaches out, fingers against the nape of Alec’s neck, and tugs him into a gentle, open-mouthed kiss. Alec kisses him back through a content smile, thumb running circles against the back of Magnus’ hand that he loosely tangles within his. Magnus lazily runs the pads of his fingers against the nape of Alec’s neck, and it flutters something delicate within his heart. 

“See?” Magnus smiles like he’s won a small victory, “Told you it’s top priority.”

Alec laughs so brightly it reaches his eyes.

“You’re a menace.”

“Love Story?” Alec says in a strong mixture of disgust and disbelief, “You’ll save Love Story over Our Song on a Taylor Swift Battle Royale?”

“Okay, I believe you asked for _my_ opinion.” Magnus says pointedly, “And I’m a hopeless romantic.”

Alec isn’t ready to give up the fight. “Our Song literally said _he's got a one-hand feel on the steering wheel the other on my heart_ and you’re saying it’s not romantic enough?”

“I’m just saying there’s no other opening and closing line with the same impact than _we we’re both young when I first saw you._ ” Magnus presses with a laugh, “Love Story, hands down, I don’t take criticisms.”

Alec scrolls through Magnus’ Spotify and plays said song, and he shakes his head as he does. “I’ve learned a lot of incriminating information about you today and I must say I’m a bit disturbed.”

Magnus laughs, readjusting his hands onto the steering wheel. “Elaborate.”

“Well first of all you have a very questionable taste when it comes to Taylor Swift songs.”

“Sure.”

“You’re clinically cold.” Alec says, “And you have a pink fluffy blanket in the trunk of your car.”

Magnus laughs. “You say that like that blanket didn’t cushion your ass for an hour!”

Alec absentmindedly snorts, propping an elbow onto the little ledge of the car door beside him, head leaned against his hand. 

“And you have a very strong tickle spot.” Alec smirks, “A major weakness, one I’m not above exploiting.”

“ _Ooh_ , careful, crinkles.” Magnus teases, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Alec rolls his eyes, mouth pulled into a mirthful smile. “I guess I can turn a blind eye to all those obvious shortcomings.”

“And what do I owe such a kind gesture?”

Alec hums, one eye squinted playfully the way he always does. “I dunno. You’re pretty great.”

Magnus teasingly ruffles through Alec’s hair, aim true despite his gaze directed at the road before him. “I guess you’re pretty great too.”

Magnus is about to take back his hand and place it against the steering wheel when Alec catches it within his. He threads their fingers together loosely, his thumb playing absently over one of Magnus’s rings. Magnus doesn’t need to look to know the small, delicately dispensed smile Alec has on his lips. He could see it in the way he draws his breath, softly but surely. 

Alec says, smiling, “Working through my shit.”

Magnus feels sunlight warm his chest. “Good.”

They drive on, Taylor Swift playing in the background.


	7. Alec Lightwood Wants to Cuddle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He shifts where he sits, hand leaving Alec’s hair, which he already misses terribly the very second it leaves. He grabs him by the forearm instead, giving him a small tug. 
> 
> Alec raises a brow but lets himself be taken. “What is your scheming little brain up to?”
> 
> “Nothing.” Magnus hums contentedly as he slips underneath the sheets. “I kind of make it up as I go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The breakdown of this chapter: 80% self-indulgent fluff, 10% surprise angst, 10% exposition? I lied the last chapter, THIS chapter is fluff nation and squeal town. Also, see below for this chapter's goodies! I'm @nhixxie if you wanna talk, and I follow #nhixxiefic if you're into the live-tweeting business. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Junior Magnus Bane isn’t one to stare, but _jesus christ_. That _has_ to be illegal.

Clary claps her hands right at his face and it finally snaps Magnus out of his bleary-eyed contemplation. When Magnus turns to her she has a knowing grin on her mouth. 

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” She mostly says than asks, her tone sing-song. What a little shit his best friend is. 

“Nothing.” Magnus replies. 

He fully turns away from the field and starts stretching, shaking off the cobwebs that laced itself along his muscles and within his joints. First practice after summer vacation is always exceptionally harsh, and it’s large part to his general summertime laziness. He hears a telling creak as he bends sideways at the waist. He winces. _That’s gonna give me some trouble._

Clary circles him like a lion onto a gazelle. “So Alec Lightwood doing drills shirtless, that’s just whatever to you.”

Magnus shrugs in what he hopes is a cool and collected manner. “It’s his shirt,” he says, “He can do whatever he pleases with it.”

His eyes flicker somewhere else as he stretches out his arm. “Put it on, take it off.” He mutters to himself, “Toss it into a wood chipper..”

Clary waggles her eyebrows. “I’m sure you’d prefer that.”

Magnus gives her a playful jab at her side, laughing. “Don’t you have tumbling layouts to practice?”

“Okay, okay!” she giggles, swatting his hand away, “Just check for drool on your mouth every now and then.”

Clary jogs away with her laugh still hanging in the air, and it makes Magnus shake his head fondly. Ever since he’d divulged to her over the summer how he finds Alec Lightwood extremely attractive over a secret bottle of vodka they’ve pulled from Jocelyn’s liquor cabinet, she’s been relentless with the teasing. Not only that, but she’s ten times more observant of where his gaze flutters onto, and it’s become clearer now more than ever that Alec is its usual landing point.

 _Not that it’s a bad thing_ , Magnus thinks as he allows himself again to turn slightly, just enough to catch the football team within his periphery again. They’ve moved to some ungodly mixture of repetitively doing burpies and catching the ball while coming up. Alec powers through the drill without giving lip, eyes focused resolutely on the motions of it. Even the sweat trickling down his forehead doesn’t break his concentration.

Magnus exhales and plants a hand over his mouth in horror because alongside the air that comes out, a small whimper hitches a ride. _Holy shit_.

Okay, so Magnus is parched, admittedly. It’s fucking hard not to be when Alec Lightwood has chosen to forego his usual immaculate decency and instead let the world know that underneath his baggy hoodies and slightly ill-fitting shirts there’s a broad chest with just the right sprinkling of chest hair over it. Not to mention the subtle ridges that make up his toned abdomen. Not to mention the slight lines just above his hipbones that seem to promise something great. Not to mention—

Magnus finds a ball spinning towards his direction, and he snaps himself out of it just in time to defensively raise both hands in front of his face to catch it. The force of it makes him stumble back a step. 

_Why the hell did you do that?_ He hears Alec angrily berate one of his teammates. It’s Duncan, an asshole of a guy, and he’s trying to get Alec to laugh it off. _He’s just standing there watching like an idiot,_ Duncan snickers, _It’s a joke, Alec, come on!_

Alec won’t hear the rest, and instead, makes his way to him. 

“Hey,” he says coarsely, still breathless from the drills, “Are you okay?”

Magnus blinks up and realizes he hasn’t been looking at Alec’s eyes. “I’m fine.” He smiles, “You didn’t have to check up on me.”

Alec cards away damp hair from his eyes purely for the convenience of it, and it’s truly evident how oblivious he is to his own appeal. “Sorry, Armstrong’s a bit of an idiot.” He says regretfully like it’s his own mistake to apologize for, “I’ll straighten him out.”

Magnus smiles down at the ball. “Let me.”

Alec blinks at him in surprise.

“Yeah, sure.” he mutters, watching as Magnus tosses the ball up in the air with a perfect flick of the wrist. He catches it almost expertly.

Magnus could hear Alec gulp. 

He strides forward and finds Duncan looking out at him with a look of realization in his face. He smirks from afar, yelling, _don’t hurt yourself Bane!_ Magnus doesn’t say anything and instead shines him a sweet smile. The next few movements come as swift as they go—he grasps the football skilfully in one hand, sets up with a couple of jog-like steps backward, sharply cocks back, and powerfully sails the ball into the air in a perfect spiral. Duncan, clearly misjudging the strength of his throw, leaps into the air to catch the ball and ends up rolling onto the grass with an embarrassed groan. Jace, who has been watching the entire thing from afar, guffaws openly at the sprawled form of his teammate. 

_Damn, Magnus, you still got it!_ Jace yells.

Magnus turns to Alec, smiling contentedly. “You might want to tell Duncan to widen his stance a little bit. His base is rocky at best.”

Alec looks back at him, eyes wide, jaw slack, throat dry. “That was _really good_.” he just about breathes, “Magnus, where’d you learn to do that?”

“Ask Jace.” Magnus grins teasingly, “Anyways, thanks for checking in. But I can handle myself.”

Magnus barely holds back the wink he desperately wants to give Alec. 

“Yeah, okay. Good.” he mumbles, somewhat confused, “See you around.”

Magnus watches as Alec jogs away, the image picture fucking perfect.

Alec makes a beeline for Jace, steering him away from the team.

“How the hell was Magnus able to do that and why aren’t you surprised?” 

Jace snickers at him. “What, throw a ball?”

“Throw a ball _perfectly_.” Alec presses.

Jace raises a brow. “Why are you so pressed?”

“I’m just,” Alec tries hard not to sputter, “Curious.”

Jace folds his arms across his chest, smirking slightly. “How’d you think I chanced upon an open quarterback position the first year of transferring to Idris?”

Alec shrugs impatiently, motioning for him to continue.

“He was quarterback.” Jace says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “And then he upped and left end of freshman year. Maia recruited him for the cheer squad as a lifter and the rest is history.”

Jace adds as if Alec’s still listening. “Him and Santiago still hang out.”

Alec nods aimlessly.

“Now if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go back to doing those drills before Coach benches me for the rest of the season.”

Jace makes his way back to the team, but not before turning back, grinning.

“And put a shirt on, you slut!”

Alec concedes wordlessly, grabbing a clean shirt from his gym bag on his way back to center field. And because he’s a stubborn piece of work, he allows himself one, tiny, hopefully inconsequential glance back.

Magnus is lifting Aline into the air, the muscles on his back rippling from beneath his tank top as he does, ass squeezed tight in his adidas track pants. 

Alec turns back.

_Well, fuck._

“Hey.”

Alec groans, swatting Izzy away because _jesus_ it’s Saturday and he will not be woken up again by an annoying sister who ignores a closed door.

“Wake up,” Izzy says in a sing-song voice, tone deep with sleep, “Come on, sleepy head.”

“Fuck off..” Alec grumbles, flipping on his stomach and burying his head as deeply as he can into his pillow.

His mattress shifts heavily and it sways Alec’s body about, as if intruding into his room and waking him up aren’t enough of a nuisance. Trust Izzy to thrash about his bed with what it seems like twice her body weight just to berate him. And to add fuel to the fire, she hovers over him like a ghost, and blows into his ear.

Alec squeezes his eyes shut and flips onto his back with an irate huff. “Izzy, leave me alone—”

He blinks up blearily, squinting at the sight above him. It’s Magnus.

Panic punches through him in a way it hasn’t for a long time, and he finds himself bunching his comforter around him in abject horror. It makes Magnus draw back in surprise before bursting into laughter so hard he tips back and collapses onto the mattress himself. Alec finally gets over his initial shock and pushes his sheets away.

“Izzy’s downstairs making breakfast.” Magnus breathes out, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes, “And your mom says to clean up the house by the time she gets back from work.”

“I could’ve punched you.” Alec says as if everything else he’d said is unimportant, “I could’ve swung in my sleep and given you a black eye.”

“I would’ve dodged.” Magnus says, grinning up at him, “You forget I’m good at that.”

Oh, how can Alec forget? That not only does Magnus lift actual people over his head, he also has a strong arm that’s insanely good for deep passes? After three weeks of dating, Alec can safely say without feeling too guilty that he’d had fleeting images of that arm in some unholy places. 

Alec Lightwood prays to the lord. Magnus is literally sprawled lazily across his bed and he’s having impure thoughts. 

“Earth to Alexander Gideon Lightwood.” Magnus calls, and Alec crosses his legs.

“Hm?”

“Still sleepy?”

“Nope.” Alec says, “I’m awake.”

Magnus props himself up with an arm, his gaze absolutely adoring as he takes in Alec’s bed head and sleepy eyes. He reaches out and teasingly runs his fingers through the top of his head where his hair looks like it has been licked by a cow. 

“Maybe I should let you sleep.”

Alec rolls his eyes fondly. “Too late for that now.”

Magnus gives him a guilty smile. “Sorry, crinkles. I should’ve called.”

He shifts where he sits, hand leaving Alec’s hair, which he already misses terribly the very second it leaves. He grabs him by the forearm instead, giving him a small tug. 

Alec raises a brow but lets himself be taken. “What is your scheming little brain up to?”

“Nothing.” Magnus hums contentedly as he slips underneath the sheets. “I kind of make it up as I go.”

Alec watches in gentle amusement as Magnus comfortably sidles right up against him. He brightly smiles up at him like he’s doing nothing at all that’s worthy of suspicion, and it makes Alec affectionately roll his eyes, because anything else would show just how smitten and truly far gone he is. 

“Slide down lower, please?” Magnus requests warmly, and Alec wordlessly follows, wriggling down until the top of his head is leveled with Magnus’ chin. Magnus flips to his side.

“And face me?” 

Alec does, and Magnus quips, “Thank you.”

Magnus enfolds his arms around Alec’s shoulders and presses him flush against his chest, chin resting softly on Alec’s head. One hand drums idly against the bones of his spine, the other running lazy lines through the slight curls near the base of his neck. Alec winds his arms around Magnus’ waist in reciprocity but mostly complete surrender, nose buried against the soft fabric of Magnus’ shirt. He closes his eyes. 

“Is this how you’re making it up to me?” Alec murmurs, sleep already tugging him back.

“Yup.” Magnus says proudly, “Is it working?”

“If I was a cat I would purr.” Alec sighs, placing his palms flat against the small of Magnus’ back, right at the dip, “What did you do again? I don’t even remember.”

A chuckle rumbles within Magnus’ chest and Alec feels it. “Good.”

Alec breathes and he’s lulled by the faint smell of sandalwood, and it makes him want to chase it up to where it’s the strongest—up the line of Magnus’ neck, at the pulse point under the angle of his jaw. It’s always where he puts his perfume, alongside the surface of his wrists. 

When he told Magnus three weeks ago that he’s trying to figure his shit out, he had responded with an open invitation to touch. Even then, it had been a bit of a struggle. At the beginning it had been a lot of Magnus reaching out, tugging him in, splaying himself against the line of his body. Then slowly but surely, Alec starts to shift. He knows when it comes to Magnus, he won’t be judged for the things that is intrinsically him. He doesn’t always need to be at his very best. Alec trusts him, and Magnus trusts him back.

So Alec touches more, kisses more. Does so sometimes in the presence of other people, as fleeting the touch, as chaste the kiss. Instead of tensing under scrutiny, he willfully ignores. He’s caught Magnus by surprise a lot these days. 

“Thanks for giving me my first ever bed cuddle.” Alec murmurs gratefully, and Magnus softens even more under his touch. He could feel Magnus smile against his hair. 

“You’re welcome.” Magnus says just as gently, “I’m sad this is your first.”

“At least it’s you.” Alec then admits, “You’re a lot of my firsts.” 

Magnus sounds interested. “Give me the list.”

“First kiss.”

Magnus smirks. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”

Alec vengefully digs a finger right at the spot where it knows it will cause maximum damage, and it completely does. Magnus yelps and gives him an annoyed smack on the shoulder, already threatening to wriggle out of his hold.

“You don’t deserve cuddles, you little shit.” Magnus grumbles accusingly and Alec doesn’t let him go.

“You were being rude!” Alec whines defensively, “Okay, okay, I won’t do it again. I promise!”

Magnus cautiously settles back, and it takes Alec’s palm soothingly running across his back, right under his shirt to make him soft and pliable again. 

“One more of that and I’m out of here, crinkles.” Magnus tries to say threateningly, but it all just comes out like an adorable pout. 

“I won’t, I promise.” Alec laughs, and he almost sighs when Magnus’ fingers come back to where it settled before. 

“First kiss,” Magnus says, going back to business, “And then?”

“First person to touch my hair.” 

“Our first drive to school?”

Alec hums his yes. “I had a mini heart attack that day.”

Magnus just about giggles. “I know.”

“First person to hold my hand. First date. First boyfriend, how can I forget about that.”

Alec stills for a moment, the palm along Magnus’ back now just timid fingers standing onto it’s tips like ballerinas en pointe. They haven’t quite talked about this yet, Alec thinks to himself. They should, though. It’s fucking embarrassing and it’s a type of vulnerability Alec has never shown to any other. And as if Magnus has siphoned his thoughts from Alec’s mind, he presses his lips onto his head comfortingly.

“I’m listening.” Magnus says, and it’s not impatient like how most others use the words. Instead, it’s understanding. Reassuring.

“When or if we’re ready,” Alec says and his voice is hoarse with trepidation, “Can you be my first time?”

Magnus smiles against his hair again. “Yes, Alexander. Of course. I’d love that.” He murmurs, “We’ll talk about it.”

Alec smiles back, and it shifts the shirt against Magnus’ chest. _God_ does three words sit on his tongue and _god_ does it threaten to come tumbling out of his lips.

“Mm’kay.”

“I would kiss you but morning breath.”

Alec mulls a thought lazily. “I could get up and brush my teeth.” He mumbles, “But that means I have to get up.”

Magnus grins. “Choose wisely.”

Alec mull over his choices for such a long time it takes Izzy’s thundering footsteps up the stairs to get them out of bed.

Magnus parks the car into Java Jones’ lot, and for a Saturday morning, they get there before the brunch crowd pours in. Alec almost forgives Magnus for waking him up so early. This and the fact that he’s been cuddled into granting clemency, which in the grand scheme of things, is not at all the worst way to be manipulated. 

“The age-old breakfast question: sweet or savory?” Magnus asks as they’re seated into a far-off booth by the corner.

Alec flips open the menu and scans through it. “We can always get different things and share it.” 

“Hmm, I love having a smart-ass boyfriend.” Magnus hums, “Doesn’t hurt that he’s stupidly good looking and has the body of a god. Who’s also an amazing running back.”

Alec raises a brow at Magnus who’s sitting there with a suspiciously big grin on his face, and before he could shake him down for an answer, someone comes around to take their order. Magnus decides on a heaping pile of blueberry pancakes for them to share, and Alec gets a breakfast platter with the works. Magnus is taking a relieved sip from his coffee cup when Alec finally breaches the topic. 

“Okay, what are you hiding?” Alec asks suspiciously after a sip from his own mug, “You’ve been buttering me up since we left the house.”

Magnus shrugs nonchalantly, or at least tries to. “What, I can’t compliment my own boyfriend?”

The answer just makes Alec’s doubt grow, because Magnus _knows_ what that—being referred to as his boyfriend—does to him. And he’s since said it twice. This little shit is either planning something or has already done something that he knows Alec would hate. 

“Out with it, Magnus.” Alec says pointedly, and Magnus finally sighs, leaning against the back of their booth. 

“Okay,” Magnus says, “Okay.”

Despite his suspicion, Alec kind of like seeing Magnus fidget for once. It’s a welcome change from his usual confidence that knows no end. It makes Alec laugh a little, and he tamps it down.

“You actually didn’t answer the question.”

Magnus puffs his cheeks out in an exhale, and it’s stupidly adorable. “Okay.” He tries again, wincing, “I told Maia that we’re for sure going to her house party next week.”

Alec doesn’t hate a lot of things. He mostly finds most things displeasing or annoying, but one thing he hates from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes are fucking house parties. Jace and Simon and Izzy and Lydia and the entire football team of Idris High have spent three full years trying to pry him out of his room and into parentless houses filled with underage drinking and horny teenagers trying to grind up against each other. Sometimes they succeed, sometimes they don’t. Every single time he’s been dragged into it, he hates it every single time. 

But Magnus is looking at him like he’s half sorry, half hopeful, and it’s fully precious. Alec _hates it_.

“I know you hate house parties.” Magnus says.

Alec shifts in his seat stiffly. “I do.” 

Magnus turns up the knob for ‘puppy eyes’ and it hits Alec right where it hurts. “But I just feel like it would be fun to go together.”

“Mm-hmm.” Alec says through tight lips. 

“And we’ll get to hang out with all our friends at the same time.” Magnus continues, peering into his eyes to gauge his reaction, “Jace, Simon, Izzy, Clary, Lydia, everybody’s gonna be there.”

Alec takes another rigid sip from his mug. 

“But if you don’t want to, we don’t have to.” Magnus says reassuringly, “I don’t ever want to force you into doing something you don’t like.”

Well how the hell does he say no to that? Magnus’ puppy eyes are dangerous, but his usual cocktail of being kind and sweet and selfless is his true weapon. Alec has already conceded five sentences ago. 

“We’ll go.” Alec says, and it’s worth it seeing the grin that blooms on Magnus’ mouth. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Magnus happily slides closer down the booth and gives Alec a quick kiss on the cheek, and if Alec wasn’t soft before, he’s soft now. 

“You gonna dance with me, crinkles?” Magnus grins teasingly.

Alec snorts. “You wish.”

“Playing hard to get.” Magnus snickers, “I love a challenge.”

Saturday is shaping up to be a lazy day all in all. 

Breakfast was great. Alec had been wary after finding out what next week brings for him, but Magnus has a way of softening him right up. _I’ll be with you, don’t worry_ , he says, and if Alec thinks about it, has Magnus ever rescinded on a promise like that? The words soothe him, just like every other thing Magnus says. It also doesn’t hurt that Magnus cuts up little bite-sized pieces of pancake and offers it up like little gifts of gratitude for indulging him on next week’s party. Again, there are worse ways to be manipulated.

They drive back to Magnus’ house after breakfast, as Alec had offered to help him with Tuesday’s assignment for Physics class. Magnus has been more or less a common presence in the Lightwood house even before they’ve gotten together, but this is Alec’s first time getting a glimpse of who Magnus is beyond what he sees in school. It pools a mixture of excitement and nervousness in his belly. 

“Just so you know, I love a bit of a messy lair.” Magnus says, hand on the door knob of his room, “So don’t judge.”

Alec scoffs jokingly. “When have I ever?”

“Tell that to my emotionally abused pink blanket.”

“Fair enough.” Alec admits, snickering, “I’ll be better.”

Magnus laughs and opens his door. Alec steps in and immediately he sees a reflection of Magnus splayed everywhere. It’s a relatively small room, but what it lacks in space, it makes up for so much character. There are soft rugs of different geometric patterns but all different muted colors of maroon, all arranged together like it’s meant to look a little disheveled but comfortable. A mattress is placed right up to the window, and sunlight passes in beams through the glass and onto his sheets. There’s book shelves of darkly stained wood embedded into the walls, and its filled with elaborate titles that Alec doesn’t even recognize. There are little things everywhere that boasts of his Indonesian heritage. It is messier than Alec’s pristine room, but it’s so warmly cozy. 

Alec stares long and hard at the bed. A big breakfast on a Saturday morning needs to be proceeded by a good nap, right? 

“Oh no you don’t,” Magnus laughs, “We’ll end up doing absolutely nothing the entire day.”

Alec purses his lips, brow creased, still looking at the extremely fluffy pillows. “I’m extremely productive.” He presses, “I once tutored Izzy _and_ Jace, and still made time to squeeze two hours of precision passing practice, and _still_ go in for my volunteer work.”

“I can do all that and still nap.” Alec says slowly, eyes raising to meet Magnus’ amused gaze.

“Okay, you can nap.” Magnus says, grabbing his notes from his slightly cluttered desk, “I’ll start working on this.”

Alec opens his mouth, already objecting. “Well—” 

“ _Ha_ , see, you don’t want to nap.” Magnus says knowingly, “You want to cuddle, you cuddle-obsessed monster.”

“I could literally be addicted to murder.” Alec says, as he plops himself onto the surface of Magnus’ desk, “There’s worse things to like, Magnus.”

Magnus sits down onto his chair, folds his knees in front of him, and flips his notes across the top of it. “How about we power through this assignment and _then_ we can talk about it.”

Alec squints at him sourly. “Fine.”

They get through two problems at a time, and like the smirking little shit-stirrer Alec is shaping up to be when he’s with Magnus, he tries to derail their progress by plucking things off their proper places and asking the most mundane questions about it. He’s gotten his grubby little hands (a lie, Alec’s hands are not little, it must be pointed out) into Magnus’ nail polish collection and is now trying to failingly paint his thumb nail black. By the time they reach the halfway mark, Magnus is ready to kick Alec out the door.

“You’re a _menace_.” Magnus sighs, fishing out a bottle of nail polish remover from his bathroom cabinet and grabbing Alec by the hand. Three of his fingers look like its been painted by a five-year old who had just discovered a stash of beauty products.

“Magnus, I’m bored.” Alec Lightwood actually, _fully_ whines.

Yup, a five-year old.

“Is this how you tutor Izzy and Jace?” Magnus asks incredulously, focusing on the thumb and rubbing off the still-tacky polish.

Alec looks at him like he’s deluded with a splash of disgust. “Are you kidding me?” he exclaims, “No way. I whip ‘em to shape.”

“Then whip me to shape.”

Heat rises up Alec’s face like a rising tide, and Magnus bursts into laughter, cotton round hovering over a cleaned thumb. 

“Oh, so now you’ve shut up?”

“That’s unfair,” Alec declares accusingly, “You know how shit like that makes me panic and you’re purposefully using it against me.”

“You’ve been purposefully derailing my work the past hour!” Magnus exclaims around a laugh, working on the index finger next.

“You’re supposed to find it cute, you know.” Alec mumbles, “Being that you like me and all.”

Magnus rolls his eyes fondly, something that is usually Alec’s field of expertise. God, he’s slowly becoming the straight-and-narrow one in their relationship. He’s supposed to be the chill, fun one, goddammit. Alec “Clingy Puppy” Lightwood is flipping the world upside down. 

“I do find it cute, crinkles.” Magnus says, smiling humorously, “But if I stop doing work everytime I find you cute, I’d be the laziest person in the world.”

Alec looks like he’s trying hard not to grin, and he looks pretty proud of himself too. A _menace_.

“Also, you’re right, I do like you.” Magnus says, and when he continues with his words, he sounds softer, more faraway.

“Maybe enough to introduce to you my mom? If you’re okay with it?”

Magnus takes a new cotton round and douses it with more nail polish remover, then moves to the last finger. He gives it a wordless, somewhat nervous swipe.

Alec smiles softly. “Yeah, I’d love that.” He says, “Whenever you want.”

Magnus smiles back. “No time like the present?”

“Of course.”

Magnus finishes with Alec’s hand and gets up from his seat, walks towards one of his book shelves, and reaches out for an ornate box at the very top. He delicately opens it. He sits on his mattress, the box cradled carefully in both hands, and Alec gently sits next to him. 

Magnus lovingly takes a pair of dog tags out and settles it into the well of Alec’s palm.

“Surya Bane,” Magnus says, smiling affectionately, “Meet Alec Lightwood.”

Alec smiles down at the slightly worn out, metal surface. 

He takes a deep breath. “It’s very nice to meet you, Ma’am.” He says, then looks at Magnus in muted alarm— _do I call her ma’am?!_

Magnus stifles a laugh, shrugging. Alec continues on.

“A bit intimidating to know my boyfriend’s mother is a naval officer.” He says cautiously, “But I heard you were an amazing person who raised an amazing son on your own.” 

“I promise I don’t have any ill intentions towards Magnus.” Alec says reassuringly, and Magnus laughs, sniffing slightly, “And if anything I like him very much.”

“I’ll take care of him for you,” Alec says and Magnus’ hands come up to wipe against his cheeks, “And though I know I can’t compare, I’ll try very hard.”

“I promise.”

Alec winds an arm around Magnus’ shoulders, hand coming up to rest endearingly against the side of his head as Magnus crumples against his side almost immediately, a brick wall collapsing. Magnus’ breaths hitch painfully in his throat. He tangles his fingers against the metal chain of his mother’s tags, the others coming up to push away tears like its ugly, incriminating evidence. Proof that despite his strength, despite the years that have elapsed since Surya Bane's passing, Magnus still hurts, and he doesn't allow himself even the slightest bit of it. All he allows himself is the patch that is sewn on his backpack, and the dog tags he keeps in a box.

The kindest person Alec knows bears the most pain. It's ironic.

“It’s okay, Magnus.” Alec says softly, “Please, it's okay. I'm here.”

Upon those words, it’s as if floodgates are let loose. Magnus clutches the tags close to his chest, sobs heavy, stuttered inhale-exhales passing through his lips. Alec holds him tighter as if to press everything he feels but can’t quite say deep into his skin instead. 

“Come on.” Alec murmurs, tugging Magnus closer into the circle of his arms. 

They both lay themselves down and Magnus clings onto Alec like a drowning man would onto a life preserver. Alec presses his mouth against the top of Magnus’ head, hands soothing against his back, a mirror image of this morning.

“I’m here.” Alec whispers, “I’m not going anywhere.”

They lay there until Magnus falls asleep in exhaustion, softly sniffling. 

Alec softly cards his fingers through Magnus hair. 

“I’m here.”

“Crinkles.”

When Alec startles awake, Magnus is looking at him with puffy, tired eyes. His nose is red and his words come out stuffy. But there’s a smile on his lips, a playful lilt in his voice, and Alec contentedly knows that Magnus will be alright. 

Alec stretches with a contented sigh, drawing up to the fullest length of his body before slumping back against Magnus, curling around him like a cat. 

“Mm.” He manages.

Magnus laughs, his eyes crescent moons. “Mm to you too, Alexander.”

“What’s with you and waking me up..” Alec mumbles, clinging to him even tighter, “I’d be so annoyed if I didn’t like you so damn much..”

“That’s rich coming from a sneaky little shit like you.” Magnus chuckles, scratching affectionately up his back. “So you got your cuddles, huh?”

Alec yawns, chin plopping back onto the top of Magnus’ head. “Didn’t do it under false pretenses.”

Magnus smirks into Alec’s chest. “You might have gotten your way today, but I’ll best you tomorrow.”

“I’m good at chess, so let’s so you try.”

Magnus rolls his eyes, chuckling. “Alexander Gideon Lightwood, good at yet another thing, oh, what a surprise. You’re like the protagonist of a badly written tween book series.”

Alec taps teasingly at Magnus’ tickle spot in warning. “You were literally just showering me with compliments at breakfast.”

“Well, I got what I wanted, didn’t I?”

Alec shakes his head in mock disappointment. “You truly are a master manipulator.”

Magnus grins softly. “Which is why I’ll best you tomorrow.”

Alec snickers. “Do your worst.”

Magnus breathes and Alec scratches at the soft buzz of hair at the base of his neck.

“Feeling better?” Alec asks.

He can feel Magnus’ smile against his chest.

“Yes.” He murmurs, “Thank you, Alexander.”

“I hope I made a good first impression.” Alec says with a hopeful smile, one that Magnus doesn’t need to see to know of its presence. 

“Mom would’ve loved you.” Magnus murmurs, “I know it.”

“Good. I’m glad.” Alec blinks away the remaining sleep in his eyes, but doesn’t give any indication of moving. “What time is it?”

Magnus peels himself from Alec’s chest to look up at the clock on his wall. “It’s almost three.”

Alec sees some kind of realization dawn over Magnus’ face. “Alexander, you’re supposed to be cleaning your house.”

Alec makes a squinty-eyed, confused face at him. “No I’m—” he pauses before scrunching his face in frustration. “ _SHIIIT_.”

Magnus bolts up, putting back the dog tags into its box and up the shelf where it belongs. He scrounges for his keys, phone, and wallet, Alec at his tail.

“Your mom wants the house cleaned by the time she gets back from work, I told you this morning!”

Alec groans as he gathers his stuff. “She’s gonna kill me. Oh, god, she’s gonna kill me.”

Magnus can’t help but laugh, shrugging on his jean jacket. “It’s fine, I’ll help you. There’s two of us, so we’ll bang it all out quickly.”

Alec turns to Magnus accusingly. “Devil, begone.”

Magnus looks on innocently, leaning forward slightly. “Why? Are you thinking we might have to lay pipe?”

“ _Jesus_ —you’re a menace!” Alec complains, ushering a snickering Magnus out the door. 

Magnus imparts to Alec three other house maintenance innuendos by the time they get to the car and those three Alec will have to keep to himself.


	8. Alec Lightwood (and Magnus Bane) Explores Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec fluffs his hair about and adjusts his head in Magnus’ lap. “Anyways, I don’t believe you.” He says, “I think there’s more to the ‘quitting the football team’ than that.”
> 
> Magnus hums, fingers going back to forming yet another ringlet. “Why do you say so?”
> 
> Alec mulls the thought.
> 
> “I dunno,” he shrugs slightly, “I just feel it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a big boy! Lots of hanging details from different chapters are addressed in this one. Hope the fluff offsets the bit of angst, but it does end in a happy note. I posted this on my birthday, and there's nothing I'd prefer to do in my quarantine birthday than write about my redacted!babies ; u ;
> 
> Below are some goodies from friends:  
> 1\. Jihane made this awfully cute edit of the babies with their theme song. [Click here to watch it!](https://twitter.com/J_LightwoodBane/status/1249160292413693955?s=20)  
> 2\. Simona made a twitter thread of baby Matt and Harry pics that screams redacted!malec. [Click here to see it!](https://twitter.com/skieskat/status/1241823179968036864?s=20)
> 
> Also, you will note that this chapter have embedded music into it. These are the songs that was used to write the scenes, and if you're into it, please do play the song while reading. I would definitely listen to the dance music though!
> 
> Hope you enjoy! I'm @nhixxie on twitter, and I follow #nhixxiefic if you're into that.

Junior Alec Lightwood can’t believe he’s been dragged out of the comfort of his own home, the warmth of his own bed, to this swampy-ass shit. 

He huffs irately, almost sloshing the contents of his red cup onto Stella Johnson’s carpeted floor. _He absolutely hates it here._ It’s dark, it’s noisy, it’s stuffy. They’ve turned the speakers up so much he could feel the bass actually squeeze his heart for him. Simon and Underhill are drunkenly laughing at something he can’t be bothered asking an explanation for, and Jace has his tongue down some girl’s throat by the fireplace, which is even more vomit-inducing than the beer he has in his cup. 

“I fucking hate it here.” Alec yells accusingly at Simon and Underhill, blaming them both completely because they _know_ Alec hates house parties, and yet, still insists on dragging him out to it. He blames Jace too because he won’t stop moaning and groaning about how this party will solve his utter lack of love life. And he blames Raj for the sheer reason of being himself. 

“Everybody hates it here the first bit!” Underhill yells back, already at his second cup, “That’s what the alcohol is for!”

“This beer tastes like warm piss!” Alec yells again, thoroughly annoyed, “Why are we even here?!”

Simon looks at him like the answer is obvious. “Alec, we just had an awful week of exams, we finished second on our inter-school football league, and we don’t have to go to school for three months. We deserve to celebrate!”

Underhill cheers in a deep, hooting voice, “And we’re seniors this year! Top dog!”

Both Simon and Underhill cheer so loud it screeches into Alec’s ears, and then clink all their cups together so hard it sloshes a large patch of beer onto Alec’s shirt.

_You have got to be kidding me._

“What—you barely even drank your thing!” Simon exclaims, completely ignoring the mess that has been made. 

“Come on, vice-cap!” Underhill presses, attempting to tip his cup into his mouth, “Chug the beer, chug, chug, you can do it—” 

Alec rolls his eyes. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

He trudges away, dunking his beer into the sink, and tosses the cup into the trashcan. He climbs up the staircase with his gaze rigidly directed in front of him and no one else. There’s people everywhere, stuffed into every nook and cranny of this mansion of a residence, and Alec just doesn’t understand how a house as big as this could still feel like a choke hold to the neck. 

Alec finally gets to the bathroom and bangs a fist on the door. A slurred _occupied_ echoes from within, and Alec rolls his eyes for what it feels like is the fifth time in the past hour. He decides to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And—

Alec irately pushes himself off the wall he’s leaning on for the past fifteen minutes and bangs on the door like he’s about to knock it down. 

“Are you done?!”

_Fuck off, asshole!_

Hot air blows out of Alec’s nose as he tries to not let the five hundred things that are simultaneously annoying him right now dictate his next words, but it does, it so thoroughly does because he’s done with warm piss beer, and glaring down every wink and every sly smile, and the whole fucking concept of house parties, and if this ass hat doesn’t get out of the bathroom in five seconds he’ll _absolutely lose it_ —

“Okay, time to take a step back.”

Alec whips his, most likely, crazy eyes to his left and finds Magnus standing next to him, eyes bright with amusement. He places a soft, placating touch on the underside of his arm, and he’s chuckling under his breath. 

Literally a ray of sunlight in this swirling shithole that is this hallway.

And as usual he looks unjustly handsome, while Alec looks like a psychopath who vomited all over himself. 

Great.

“Magnus,” he breathes, surprised to find so much relief in the exhale that he releases, “What are you doing here?”

Alec wants to kick himself. _What are you doing here? Really?_

Magnus gives him a splendid smile nonetheless. “I like parties. And you? Who dragged you out here this time?”

Alec sighs deeply. “Jace.” He looks at him curiously. “Why do you like going to these things?”

Magnus looks at him, mildly surprised. Clearly, no one has confronted him about his fondness of house parties before. He squints an eye in thought. 

“I like talking to people.” Magnus answers, smiling slightly.

“Right, because all this,” Alec motions all over the crowded hallway, “Is so conducive to conversation.”

Magnus laughs as he starts to walk. Alec finds himself following suit, and they descend down the stairs and into the living room.

“Okay, you have a point.” He admits, “It just gets a bit gloomy in the house, and sometimes all the noise is better than no noise at all.”

Alec knows this part of Magnus through word of mouth. Izzy had mentioned it to him before, that Magnus lost his mom—his only parental figure—almost five years ago now. It’s not a secret, but it’s not something people talk about either, that Magnus’ move into Alicante was born out of necessity. It is where his mother’s close friend and now his legal guardian, Catarina Loss, resides. It’s almost unreal to think that Magnus is technically orphaned. It’s hard to equate his bright smiles with such heavy thoughts. 

Alec gets what Magnus is saying. With thoughts so heavy, silence can hurt. Even Alec would seek noise of any kind too if he was in Magnus’ shoes.

“I’ll make noise.” Alec says, and he doesn’t really know why he words his thoughts that way. 

He takes whatever courage the few sips of alcohol gives him and runs with it. Magnus knows Alec enough to know there’s more words to come, so he waits for the rest of it with a small smile on his mouth. Despite his embarrassment, Alec feels inexplicably warm to be known with such depth.

“What I mean is,” Alec continues, “You don’t have to pick between no noise and all the noise.”

Alec shrugs like he’s completely nonchalant when in reality, he’s about to maybe piss himself.

“I could be right at the middle, not too silent, not too noisy.” He says, and then helplessly tries for a joke, “Like Goldilocks, you know? Just right.”

Alec laughs weakly, which he aborts as quickly as he realizes how dumb he sounded.

Magnus looks at him, an impressed kind of realization filling his face. “Alec Lightwood,” he says teasingly, “Are you saying you want to hang out with me?”

Alec actually thanks the piss-beer for lifting his Magnus panic from debilitating to bearable. Because if not for that, he would’ve probably run away after that little bout of slightly flirtatious banter.

“Only if you want to.” Alec mutters, “And if you’re not here with someone.”

Magnus chuckles, and it hits Alec yet again like a gentle ray of sunlight. When the sound settles from his lips, he shakes his head slightly. 

“Alec, I really appreciate it. And I want to, believe me.” He murmurs, “But if you’re seen hanging out with me, people will talk.”

Alec quietly absorbs the words and parses through it.

“And people will dig for answers.” Magnus continues under his breath, “And they might just dig deep enough to uncover things you may not be ready to make known.”

Alec is in disbelief. Even in what should be Magnus’ time of need, he still thinks about other people. How is one person so inexplicably selfless? It’s a mind-numbing thought, one that almost takes away his ability to supply his reply. 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Alec asks, and Magnus winks at him contentedly. 

“I’ll be fine. Now go before Underhill breaks that vase.” 

Alec looks back to see Underhill yelling some garbled nonsense while lifting an expensive looking vase over his head like he’s showing off the Vince Lombardi trophy. A crowd had formed around him, cheering his drunken antics on. Alec groans, muttering expletives under his breath.

He turns back to Magnus, allowing himself to be hopeful. 

“See you around, then?”

Magnus smiles.

“See you around.”

They go their separate ways, Alec making his way quickly towards the circle of drunken teammates, and Magnus slipping into the kitchen where Clary and the rest of the cheer squad is gathered.

Maybe next time.

“Did you see this?”

Magnus looks up to see Alec making his way across the rooftop of the west building, a piece of paper in hand. Alec kicks off his shoes and settles onto the pink blanket spread out under the canopy, planting a teasingly noisy kiss on Magnus’ cheek.

“Ugh, what was that?!” Magnus laughs, face scrunched in disgust, “Never do that again!”

Alec grins a shit-eating grin. “Got it, I’ll do it five more times.”

“ _Menace._ ” Magnus says, sticking two forks into the two tupperwares of carbonara laid out before him, “What were you talking about?”

Alec hands Magnus the piece of paper slipped into the crack of his locker.

“Cease and desist?” Magnus reads incredulously, and Alec makes a funny noise while fishing out his own tupperware from his lunch bag.

Magnus reads on under his breath, amused. “ _Dear Mr. Magnus Bane and Mr. Alec Lightwood, this letter is to direct you both to cease and desist being attached at the hip 24/7._ ”

“Total lie,” Alec says, “And at the hip is the worst way to be attached.”

“On the contrary, at the hip is the best way to be attached.” Magnus teases and snickers at the deep sigh Alec releases.

“ _As much as we love that you guys are so disgustingly in love with each other’s faces,_ ”

“Debatable after that comment.”

“ _We demand that you spend some time with your own respective friends Wednesday after school._ ” Magnus continues with a grin, “ _We know you’re pretty much married, but jesus christ, cool it._ ” 

“ _We await your response, The Malec Support Squad._ ” 

Magnus laughs, eyes crescent moons, putting the paper away. “That’s kind of cute.”

Alec makes a face as he twirls pasta onto his fork. “What are they even talking about? We hang out with them all the time.”

“Alexander, we haven’t seen any other person aside from each other for the past three days.” Magnus points out, stabbing his fork into the salad that Alec brings from home, “We only see our friends between classes and during practice.”

Alec waves a dismissive hand. “That’s hanging out too.”

“Not even close.” Magnus shakes his head, laughing, “They have a point. I miss Clary and Izzy, and I’m sure you miss Jace and Simon.”

“I do.” Alec grudgingly admits through a mouthful of food, but then releases a helpless whine. “But then I don’t get to see you until what, the party?”

Magnus rolls his eyes fondly, pulling Alec’s hoodie over his eyes. “You managed without me for three years, you’ll be fine.”

Alec shakes his hoodie off just enough so he can look at Magnus like he’s deluded; a squint of the eye and a raised brow. “Managed? I was dying! I got so desperate I did drills shirtless so you’d notice me!”

Magnus chokes on half-chewed pasta, ducking away as he spastically coughs out a lung. Alec’s eyes widen as he puts down his food and scoots over to slam a hand over Magnus’ back. 

“Are you okay?” Alec actually laughs, “You do know you chew before swallowing, right?”

“I don’t—” Magnus hacks another cough, “I don’t need swallowing pointers—” another cough, and Alec gives him a pointed look that says _really, while choking_? He realizes then that it’s actually impeccable timing.

Magnus resurfaces, eyes watery, breaths heaved as he asks in disbelief, “You did that on purpose?”

“I mean, I didn’t _plan_ it.” Alec admits sheepishly, “I just kind of saw you and said fuck it?”

Magnus laughs through a sore throat, eyes squeezed shut, hand to the heart. “God, you’re unbelievable! Do you know how much stress you put me through that day?!”

Alec squints at him accusingly. “Oh, and showing off your quarterback arm, that’s just in the spirit of sports and athleticism?”

“Oh, that was to turn you on.” Magnus grins, and Alec buries his face into his hands, a faint _I hate it here_ feebly mumbled into it.

Magnus laughs so hard he almost goes into another coughing fit. 

“Are you done?” Alec bemoans.

Magnus finally settles into a grin. “Thank you for that _wonderful_ view that I look back on very fondly,” he says, “But you didn’t need to lose your shirt to gain my attention. You’ve always had it.”

Alec makes a teasing face. “Ew, you like me that much?” he snickers, “How embarassing.”

Magnus just smiles, shrugging wordlessly. _That’s one word for it_.

“One day, crinkles, I’ll get back at you for your shirtless attack.” He mischievously warns, a gleam in his eyes, “You’ll see.”

Alec grins. “Looking forward to it.”

They forego the rest of their conversation for mouthfuls of pasta and bites of salad Maryse had urged Alec to take for lunch. The can of sprite they’ve split between the two of them has lost half of its fizz by the time they’ve come back to drinking it, and just like every lunch date that they’ve had for the almost-one-month that they’ve been dating, they hang back for the rest of the time they have until their next class inevitably starts. Magnus asks about Maryse and Alec gushes about a jarring medical story involving a meat grinder and an unfortunate arm. _You’ll be a great doctor_ , Magnus chortles teasingly, _if not a doctor a butcher_.

Alec nods in agreement, sighing contentedly, full and absolutely satiated.

“Good?” Magnus chimes, and Alec responds by lazily sprawling himself onto the blanket, head seeking his lap as a pillow.

“Too good.” Alec mutters, eyes already half-lidden Magnus cards through his hair just the way he likes it, “No more shirtless drills for me if I continue on like this.”

Magnus laughs softly, fingers right by the shell of Alec’s ear. “We can’t have that now, can we?”

“I still can’t believe you gave up being quarterback.” Alec mutters sleepily, “We could’ve played on the same team if you never left.”

Magnus twirls a finger around the curl of hair across Alec’s forehead. “Just wasn’t for me.”

Alec blinks up. “That’s it?”

Magnus nods before squashing a laugh against the roof of his mouth.

“What?” Alec says through a yawn and a stretch of limbs.

“Sorry,” Magnus giggles at the curl of Alec’s hair he’s been playing with, now laid down like a ringlet over his forehead, “You look cute.”

He takes a picture with his phone and shows it to Alec, who groans in response. “I look like a nerd.”

“Well, now your looks match your IQ.” Magnus affectionately grins. 

Alec fluffs his hair about and adjusts his head in Magnus’ lap. “Anyways, I don’t believe you.” He says, “I think there’s more to the ‘quitting the football team’ than that.”

Magnus hums, fingers going back to forming yet another ringlet. “Why do you say so?”

Alec mulls the thought.

“I dunno,” he shrugs slightly, “I just feel it.”

Magnus’ fingers don’t falter in Alec’s hair, and his smile doesn’t change, but there’s disquiet in his eyes. Alec takes it and parses through it the best he can. Most of what he knows of Magnus from the past three years he’s gleaned from high school gossip. The only way he knew of Surya Bane was because of the muted conversations he overheard during chemistry class two years ago. Alec hates that it’s how he’s come to know things about his boyfriend. He wishes he could ask him outright— _why’d you quit the football team, why’d you come out when you did, what did Camille do?_

But Magnus is looking back at him like he’s not ready to divulge anything of the sort. Alec is sympathetic to the plight. He should know; he’s looked at Magnus with the same hesitance for the past three years. Certainty only came right at the very moment he decided to walk across the football field that one fateful day. 

Alec reaches out and gently flicks away the bit of hair that falls over Magnus’ eyes.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk about it.” Alec says softly, “And you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“But when you’re ready,” he says, an echo of the words Magnus had given him many times before, “If ever you’re ready,”

“I’m here to help.”

Magnus’ mouth lift into a grateful smile. It’s like he’s never been offered the words before. 

“Okay.”

Alec paws at his forehead. “Did you do it again?”

“There’s three of them now.” Magnus mirthfully says.

Alec sighs in defeat. “I guess I can live with it.”

Magnus makes up for it with cheeky kiss on Alec’s nose.

If hugging was a team sport, Clary and Izzy would be Olympic delegates. Izzy is crushing him so tight she’s squeezing her eyes shut, and Clary’s hanging onto him like the ground might collapse under them.

Izzy grits out, “I missed you so much, don’t ever leave us again!” 

Clary chants, “I love you and I miss you, I love you and I miss you!”

Magnus laughs warmly. “I missed you guys too. I’m sorry for being MIA.”

“I forgive you, you did nothing wrong, it’s all Alec’s fault.” Izzy says definitively, “That little shit doesn’t know how to share.”

Magnus grins, ruffling a hand through both Clary and Izzy’s hair. “You’re absolutely right, he’s a menace.”

They finally let Magnus go and let him step into Clary’s living room. Izzy makes a beeline for the kitchen where she picks up snacks for the afternoon, and Clary hooks an arm around his as they walk through the house and out into the covered deck. 

“Did you send in that application to that art school?” Magnus asks, and Clary nods enthusiastically.

“Brooklyn Academy of Arts, yesterday, actually.” She says as Izzy catches up to them, “You’re still gunning for Idris?”

“Yup,” Magnus answers, “Affordable, a really good lit program, close to home. Don’t have to pay that illegally expensive rent prices in the city.”

“I’m so glad I don’t have to think about that shit until next year.” Izzy sighs contentedly as she plops onto the patio couch, “Alec, however, has a thousand scholarship applications on his desk.”

Magnus smiles fondly as he takes his seat. “It doesn’t matter where he applies. He’ll get what he wants no matter what it is.”

Clary puffs her cheeks. “Well, he better choose soon. Before he knows it the deadline's around the corner.” She looks at Magnus pointedly, “Anyways, are you still on to come early to help Maia set up for her party?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Magnus answers, “We can carpool to Maia’s? Alec’s coming a little later so he’ll go with Jace and Simon.”

Izzy snorts as she pops open a bag of chips, a big-time Alec move. It’s hilarious how Izzy and Alec have a lot to complain about each other when they’re pretty much the same person but with a chromosome off.

“Alec? Going to a house party?” Izzy asks incredulously, “Good luck with that.”

“He agreed to go.” Magnus says as he tucks his legs under him, “Believe me, I was as surprised as you are.”

“He’s gonna grumble miserably the entire time.” Izzy says after as swig of coke. 

Magnus shrugs slightly, teeming with optimism. “Maybe I can change his mind.”

“Trust me, I’ve tried to drag that idiot to every party I’ve been invited to.” Izzy mumbles through a mouthful of chips (yet another habit both she and her brother share, one Magnus can live without), “He’s a complete grump everytime.”

Clary taps a finger on her own drink, smiling agreeably as she does. “Well, if anyone can bend Alec’s will, it would be you.”

Izzy whips her head at Magnus’ direction, grinning her devil grin as she points a finger at him. “I bet that’s not the only type of bending Alec’s doing for you, ayyy!”

“Izzy!” Clary exclaims, but presents her hand for an impressed high-five which a cackling Izzy returns.

“Okay, that was really good.” Magnus admits with a laugh, “Untrue, but good.”

Izzy’s eyes widen to such an extent she embodied a fly. “ _What?!_ ” she hisses scrambling off her spot to lean into his personal space.

“ _You guys haven’t fucked?_ ”

Magnus places a finger onto Izzy’s forehead and gently pushes her away. “Nice try.” he smiles knowingly, “We’re not talking about that.”

Izzy looks at him, offended. “Why not?”

“Because, Isabelle Sophia Lightwood, boundaries.”

“What? That’s a bunch of baloney!” Izzy complains, swatting Magnus’ finger away, “Our friendship operates on the fact that we have no boundaries!”

Clary grins as she watches Izzy mope. “She has a point.”

“Clary, maybe.” Magnus says, “On account that she’s not Alec’s blood relative and talking to her about it doesn’t pose a moral dilemma.” 

Clary’s face brightens with excitement. “I take it back, Izzy has no point.”

Izzy gasps like she’s witnessed a complete and utter betrayal of friendship. “How dare you two.”

Magnus laughs. “You know, most people would rather jump off a cliff than talk about their sibling’s sex life.”

“Yeah, but I’m actually invested in this relationship.” Izzy groans, throwing her hands in the air as she dramatically plops back against the couch.

“We talked about it, and we’re taking it slow.” Magnus says, “That’s it, that’s all you get.”

Izzy sighs, a hand to the heart. “Alec talking freely about his feelings. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“And he’s such a softy now, too.” Clary happily points out, “Oh my gosh, you know what I like? I like it when he clings on your back like an overgrown koala. It’s illegally adorable.”

“Ooh, that’s some good stuff.” Izzy agrees, “Stupidly annoying, but really good. Like, I’d like you guys to cool it, but also don’t?”

Magnus looks at both of them suspiciously. “Have you guys been hanging out with the Malecs?”

Izzy gives returns his look with one of utter disgust. “Hanging out with them? We’re in a league of our own! Upper echelon bitches, here from day one!”

Clary giggles, “Hell yeah!”

Clary and Izzy high-fives again and Magnus can only laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

“Look,” Izzy says, seriously now, “I know we dump on you two about being attached at the hip 24/7, but I haven’t seen Alec this happy. Ever.”

“He’s been in a choke hold for most of his life.” She breathes out, as if to harken on a memory from long ago, “It was hard to watch. But now it’s like something’s immensely shifted.” 

Izzy then looks at Magnus pointedly. “And you too. Don’t think we haven’t noticed.”

Clary nods minutely, mouth quirking into a small smile. “You have a talent for smiling through shitty times, and sometimes, you fool even us.” She says, fingers tapping onto her drink again, “There’s more truth to your happiness nowadays.”

As if to completely prove Clary’s point, Magnus can’t help the smile that burgeons upon his lips. What can he say back to words like those given to him? There’s nothing _to_ say. So, he lets the sentiment of it grow within his chest like rose buds in bloom.

Magnus murmurs, warm with affection, “I’m lucky to have him.”

“Not more than he’s lucky to have you.” Izzy says with just as much warmth, “And I’m sure Alec would agree.”

“You’re an idiot.” Alec says flatly, and Jace shrugs.

“You asked _me_.”

Alec slots the newest Halo release back onto the shelf, eyes rolling to oblivion. “I didn’t ask what _you_ would like as a present, I asked what _you think_ Magnus would like.”

Jace groans, tossing his hands to the air as he throws a mini-tantrum in the middle of the mall. 

“Alec, this is supposed to be our time.” he presses, “We should be at Simon’s place watching dumb movies and playing dumb video games, not shopping for presents.”

“Don’t look at me, I’m having fun.” Simon says as he licks a stripe off his ice cream.

Alec motions towards Simon and looks pointedly at Jace, as if to say _see, why can’t you be like Si?_

“I like watching Alec have a mini-spiral over his upcoming monthsary.” Simon grins teasingly.

It takes an exorbitant amount of effort to not slap Simon’s ice cream cone out of his hands. Little shits, both of them. 

“You guys are killing me.” Alec grumbles, stalking out of the game store with Jace and Simon on his tail, “The _one time_ I ask you both for help, seriously.”

Jace speeds up to keep pace with Alec’s long, loping gait, boosted even more by sheer annoyance.

“Okay, you know why you’re blanking out? It’s because you’re looking for gifts at the wrong place.”

Alec slows down slightly, throwing Jace a cautious look.

“Do you really think Magnus would want anything from the mall?” Jace asks like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “The guy who only wears thrifted clothes to school, speaks three languages and is learning a fourth, and taking extra creative writing classes so he can apply to a good lit program?”

Alec’s brow rises slightly, because all those things he relayed to both of them exactly one month ago, and Jace was able to list them off verbatim. He’s really been better at the whole listening and talking thing.

“If I was a betting man, I wouldn’t buy him anything.”

“Write him something.” Simon chimes, “Or you can bake him something sweet. Anything that you actually made with your own two hands will be a lot better than some thing you bought off a store.”

Alec nods slowly, mulling a thought. “Those are actually pretty great ideas. I take back what I said.”

They collectively start walking to the mall exit, and Simon asks, “Do you have an idea what Magnus might give you?”

Alec stuffs his hands in his pockets where it fidgets slightly. “We didn’t really talk about gifts.. or doing anything for our one month, to be honest.”

“Just winging it, huh?” Jace hums.

“I don’t know whether he even thinks about these kinds of stuff.” Alec awkwardly answers, “But I dunno, I feel like it’s something I’d like to celebrate? It’d be nice to surprise him for once.”

Jace actually sniffs. “I might cry.” He turns to Simon, “Look at him, Si, he’s actually using his feelings.”

“This is why I don’t tell you guys shit.” Alec complains, swatting away the pinch Simon is trying to deposit onto his cheek, “Be normal for once, _jesus_.”

Jace grins, waving a dismissive hand as they reach Simon’s car. “Shut up and let me hear more of how Magnus is the first _real breath you’ve ever taken_ —” 

“I swear to god—” Alec lunges to plant a hand over Jace’s mouth, his face beet-red and warm with risen blood.

Jace cackles as he swerves from Alec’s reach, “Go ahead, I’ll die happy knowing that it’s _Magnus or nothing_ —” 

“Jace I’m gonna fucking _kill you_ —”

Jace snickers, ducking away and sprinting round the back of the car. He pops his head over the roof to meet Alec’s livid, flustered gaze. “You’re so far gone Alec, it’s painfully obvious.”

Alec visibly fumes as he leans forward, perpetually annoyed, “Yes okay I love him _literally what about it_ , can we all just shut up and get on with our lives now?”

Jace grins quietly, leaning forward himself, arms settled upon the roof of the car. He props his chin onto his hand, looking at Alec pointedly. Simon clambers out of the driver’s seat, awestruck.

Alec bristles. “What?”

Their looks become even more pointed, as if by doing so he’s to magically get what they’re trying to say.

“Spit it out!”

Jace looks just as impatient. “Review what you just said.”

Alec seethes but irately indulges Jace’s request. _Yes, okay, I love him, literally_ —

His eyes soften. He looks at Jace and Simon, who only grin back.

He breathes out, blinking. 

“ _Oh_.”

Alec discovers he can’t fucking bake. 

“Izzy!” Alec yells, “Come down here!”

It takes a few moments for Izzy to come thundering down the stairs. When she finds Alec in the kitchen, he has flour all over his shirt and a streak of dried batter on his cheek somehow. The island is a mess almost beyond reprieve, and there’s a burnt brick of a cake sitting on the sink. 

“What the shit?”

“You bake, right?” he asks hurriedly, “What did I do wrong?”

Izzy peers into the pan. “You burned it.”

Alec rolls his eyes impatiently. “I know that, how do I fix it?”

“Alec, what is this for?” Izzy asks incredulously, and Alec defeatedly lays down the spatula in his flour dusted hand. It takes a while for him to fumble through his answer, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice.

“Today’s Magnus and I’s first month anniversary.” He mumbles, frazzled, “I wanted to bake him something because he likes cake. And then I realized I haven’t touched an oven ever.”

“Well, when do you need it?”

“Today,” Alec winces, “I’m gonna give it later.”

Izzy breathes out, hands before her placatingly. “Alec, that is so sweet, but so stupid. Why would you make a cake hours before you have to have it ready?”

“I wanted it to be fresh!” Alec says defensively as he picks off the dried batter from his cheek, “And I didn’t expect to be exceptionally bad at this.”

“There’s no time, do something different.” Izzy says with a tone of finality, “And you don’t have enough ingredients for a second batch.”

Alec taps his fingers on the counter, agitated. “Fourth, actually.”

Izzy passes a hand over her face. “Oh my god.”

“This is a disaster.” Alec grumbles, gathering all of his used bakeware and dumping it into the sink with much more force than necessary, “Just—forget it, I’ll figure it out.”

“Stop that.” Izzy demands, “What’s going on with you? You’ve been so frazzled these days.”

“I’m not, I’m fine.” Alec says under his breath, and Izzy takes him by the arm and tugs him back from his chore. 

“You don’t get to lie to me, you little shit.” Izzy reprimands, but her words are soft. It releases a deep exhale from Alec, one that he’s probably been holding since a pretty big revelation was made known to himself _about himself._

Alec squints down at her. “I’m older than you, you don’t get to call me little shit, little shit.”

Izzy smirks slightly, leaning back onto the kitchen island as Alec settles against the sink. “You sure do mope a lot for an older brother.” She remarks, “Spit it out.”

Alec rolls a shoulder back like a muscle had seized there. He falls into silence for a bit, calculating how to approach the situation. He exhales deeply before speaking.

“I’ve come to a realization last Wednesday.” He mumbles, frowning, “And I’m not gonna say it because I can’t keep saying the words to someone who isn’t Magnus.”

Izzy softens, getting the picture immediately. “Okay. Are you scared?”

“That I feel this way?” Alec asks, “No.” 

He loves Magnus, and he’s sure of it. He loves him fully, thoroughly. For him, there has never been not loving Magnus. It’s his unchangeable past, ever enduring present, and his inevitable future.

Alec breathes, arms crossed over his chest. “That he doesn’t feel the same?” he asks again, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, “Maybe.”

Izzy heaves a deep breath of her own, thoroughly absorbing the information that has just been given to her. Her fingers tap mindlessly against the kitchen counter, and she's careful with the next thing she says. Alec has always appreciated this of his sister. She knows exactly what to say, and how to say it. Seems like tactfulness is a gene that only she has inherited from their parents. 

“Look,” Izzy starts gently, “I know it’s easy to misconstrue what the picture is when you’re standing so close to it. So, take it from somebody who's at the outside looking in.”

“And I’m not gonna say it either, because you shouldn’t hear this through somebody else’s mouth.” She says, “But just step back. Think about everything Magnus has said and done; not even when you guys got together, but since the day you met.”

“Is there something that doesn’t follow the trajectory of him feeling the same way about you?” Izzy asks, and it compels Alec to actually think, “Everything leads up to exactly _this_. Not a hair out of line.”

Izzy shrugs slightly, peering into Alec’s worried eyes. “I really don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“How are you so sure?” Alec mutters, insecurity ever present in his voice.

“I’m not.” Izzy answers, “And you’re not. And Magnus isn’t. No one is. That’s the whole premise of feeling something beyond fondness.”

“You do it despite being unsure of it all. Otherwise it’s a contract.”

Alec shakes his head slightly, a corner of his mouth quirked. “I hate how good you are with this shit.”

Izzy smirks proudly. “You got the academic intelligence, I got the emotional intelligence. Between the two of us we won’t need a teacher or a psychiatrist.”

Alec finally pushes himself off the sink, dusting flour off his shirt. “So what should I give him then?”

Izzy departs from the kitchen counter and opens the fridge for something to drink. 

“Honestly? Anything will do. He’d treasure a piece of paper if it came from you.”

Alec realizes then and there that the best thing he could give Magnus has been in his possession for the past year.

By the time they’ve arrived at Maia’s house, more than half of the people she invited have already arrived. Jace has to park all the way to the end of the street, but the walk is a welcome inconvenience. The weather is just right, and Alec had enough foresight to bring up a zip up hoodie in case it got a bit nippy. 

Jace is going to open his mouth to say something, but Alec beats him to it.

“I know, I know, you still can’t believe I’m going to a house party of my own free will.”

Simon snickers. “If we just knew back then that Magnus is the key to making our lives easier, we would’ve made something happen a lot earlier.”

“I miss the dragging him out of his house part, though.” Jace mourns, “I forgot how fun that was.”

They step up to the front porch and pushes the unlocked door open. Alec braces for an assault to his eyes and ears, but instead the lights are brought down just enough that it’s not too bright but not too dark, and the music is actually _really good_. It’s chill but dancy, and the bass on the speakers doesn’t aim to send someone into an early cardiac arrest. Compared to all the other house parties he’s been forced to go to, the amount of people in the house is just right, and most of the people he sees he recognizes. Sebastian is sitting on the living room couch chatting idly with Dot, which is an ironically hilarious sight to see. Half of the track team is scattered everywhere, and he could hear his own team making a ruckus in the backyard. He’d already said hi to seven people by the time he reaches the kitchen.

Maia smiles as they approach. “Hey, welcome! Glad you guys can make it!”

“Damn, you got a nice place, Roberts.” Jace whistles, looking up at the high ceilings.

“Damn right it is,” Maia throws him a warning look as he reaches down to grab some cans of beer from the icebox, “So no stupid shit, Herondale.”

Jace snorts as he catches one of the cans. “It’s like you don’t know me.”

Alec catches the other, smirking slightly. “If she’s asking you not to be stupid, then she knows you just fine.”

Maia snickers, “Most of your buddies are at the backyard. There’s food out there and more drinks if you want.” She smiles at Alec knowingly, “Magnus is there too.”

She turns to Simon, her smile subtly different. “Here.”

He catches the can she tosses his way, and finds that it’s a different brand. “This is my favorite.” he beams, “How'd you know?” 

Maia shrugs, still smiling. “You just seem like a Pabst guy.”

Alec smiles back his own thanks and raises a brow at Simon's direction. Bless his heart, he's blissfully ignorant. He makes it a point to bring this up to Magnus later on. They all move towards the living room where a sliding door leads into the large, landscaped back yard. He finds Underhill and the others kicking a soccer ball within the circle they form on the grass, their beer spilling from their hands as they giddily shout at each other. 

He cracks his can as he looks around, fizz hitting his skin softly. He looks at the fancy scrawl on its surface— _Brooklyn summer ale_ —and is about to take a sip off the top when the can gets snatched from under him. A bit of it splashes onto the grass, and Alec finds none other than Magnus grinning at him, can in hand, already tossing back a gulp. 

And is Alec ever distressed. Magnus looks even more gorgeous than he usually is. Eyes lined, corners glittering with every movement of his head, necklaces cascading. He’s wearing a zipped up black bomber that should look like a distressed, fluffy bath mat on somebody else, but as always he’s found a way to make it look anything but. Alec doesn’t want to venture further down in fear of what else he would find, but he vaguely registers black skinny jeans and a pair of black Vans. 

He really needs that drink now.

“Well, hello, crinkles.” He greets, more giggle-prone than he usually is, “Long time no see.”

“It’s only been three days!” Jace exclaims.

Alec rolls his eyes fondly, walking up to Magnus and plucking the can from his hands. “How many drinks in are you at?”

“Two,” Magnus grins, plucking the can back, “Three, now.”

Alec laughs, shaking his head softly. “You gotta slow down.”

“You gotta catch up.” Magnus teases.

Alec smirks, taking back the can with one swipe and finally takes his first sip of the night. 

“Let me, then.”

“Oh my god, get a room!” Raphael hollers from afar, “There’s children here!”

Alec throws an annoyed look towards Raphael's direction, who returns the same look back. Underhill and the others hoot and howl, already stumbling on their feet as they collapse in loud laughter. Izzy, Clary, and the rest of the cheer squad joins in, their high-pitched squeals punctuating the air.

Magnus’ laughter settles into a contented grin as he places himself within the circle of Alec’s arms, his own winding around Alec’s back. He presses his mouth against Alec’s shoulder, kissing softly.

“Missed you.” He murmurs, smiling. 

Alec doesn’t care who sees anymore, because it’s been three damn days too long. He deposits a gentle kiss on the side of Magnus’ head.

“Missed you too.”

Magnus looks over Alec’s shoulder to Jace and Simon who won’t stop manically grinning.

“Can I take him back now?” he asks.

“I guess you can.” Simon says mirthfully, “We want him back next Saturday though.”

“Deal.”

“Hello?” Alec asks indignantly, “I’m right here?”

Magnus grins again, fingers gently scratching the curls at the base of his neck. “Good, now we don’t need to let you know.”

Magnus lets go and takes Alec by the hand, tugging him along as they leave the crowd of people concentrated along the deck. They follow the landscaped pavement that curves to a slightly hidden area of the backyard, where a hammock is tied to the bark of two trees. There are string lights hung overhead, a blanket draped over the hammock.

Magnus curls his arm around Alec’s back, grinning softly. “Happy first month anniversary.”

Alec doesn’t want to give it all away, but he can’t help the sappy smile that pulls at his mouth and hurts his cheeks.

“My gift to you is that you don’t have to mingle with anybody. This spot is protected real estate.” Magnus says mirthfully, “I explicitly told everybody to fuck off.”

Alec gives it all away. He laughs so brightly it reaches his eyes, fully, completely, and he’s unbelievably warm in the spot where his heart rests. 

_Shit_ , he thinks to himself, _I love him._

Alec wordlessly tugs Magnus towards the hammock, settling onto it himself and pulling Magnus into the space beside him. Magnus tumbles in slightly and it’s takes a bit to get comfortable, but when they do, they’re flush against each other like the last two puzzle pieces on someone’s picture.

Alec inhales, exhales, and realizes he hasn’t said anything for the past five minutes. 

“Thank you, Magnus.” He says softly, and the words have a different kind of intensity to it after the realizations that he had arrived upon a few days ago. It’s a pull unlike any other, a gravitational force that anchors his heart onto the earth. 

Magnus adjusts his head against Alec’s chest, smiling. “You’re welcome.”

“I have something for you too.” Alec says, reaching into his jacket pocket. 

“Remember Junior year when Aldertree went through your bag?” Alec asks, and Magnus chuckles.

“And you punched him?”

Alec chuckles too. “Yeah, that time. And he got to your French notes and ripped some of them up because he’s an asshole?”

Magnus blinks up at him curiously. “Yes?”

He presents him with a thin stack of folded of paper, and upon seeing it, Magnus recognizes its type of loose leaf. He peels back his arm from across Alec’s waist and takes it, unfolding the first of the three.

It’s the same notes he’s lost a year ago, slightly crumpled, as if it’s been smoothened out with the palm of one’s hand. Magnus can see the jagged lines across the paper where it’s been ripped, except it’s been pieced together and taped meticulously. He takes the second and the third pieces and finds it in the same condition, salvaged painstakingly like it’s trying to correct something bigger than three ripped up pages of scribbled notes.

_Look, I don’t know exactly what happened, but you never deserve to be hurt._

“You did this?” Magnus almost whispers, gaze still lost within old scribbles he barely remembers.

“I was going to give it back to you,” Alec murmurs, smiling, “But I just couldn’t get back to you again. We had a bad habit of only meeting once every month.”

Magnus exhales deeply, and the puff of air that comes out of his mouth twinges like there’s a withheld sob in his throat. He breathes in and out again, like he’s on the precipice of something immense.

_He fucking deserved what Camille did to him._

“The reason I quit the football team was because it reminded me of what Camille forced me to be.” Magnus says under his breath, quietly, but the impact of it mammoth, “She was there for me when my mom died. When everything else seemed to pull away, she stepped closer. She pulled me out of a place where I thought I couldn’t come out of.”

Alec takes the hand that rests on his chest and holds it within his. He nods slightly, as if to say _go on, I’m here._

Magnus breathes again, and then continues. “I cared for her. Immensely. So I came out to her and told her who I am.” He shakes his head. “She didn’t take kindly to it.”

Another inhale, exhale. Alec runs a thumb against the side of Magnus’ hand, soothing. 

“She forced me to stay in the team, as if doing so would prove my masculinity.” He says, and his voice threatens to waver, “And I did, for a long while, because I thought I loved her, and that what she did for me then must prove the same for her. But it got so badly, so quickly—so much that I couldn’t bear it anymore. I broke up with her, left the team, joined the cheer squad instead to prove a point.”

Alec feels a dizzying dread flush through his veins, and even before Magnus says it, he already knows.

“She threatened to out me.” Magnus says, sorrow steeped in his voice; not hate, not disgust, but sorrowful betrayal. “And the first person she told was Aldertree. They were dating then.”

Alec’s heart lurches in his chest, and whatever hate and disgust Magnus refuses to feel rises within him instead. 

“So, I talked to Clary, Maia, and the rest of my team.” He says, his voice lightening at the thought of them, “I came out to them first. And then I decided to come out to the entire school.”

Alec allows himself a proud smile, the anger softening from a turbulent boil to a gentle simmer. “I heard about that. Cafeteria, boots on the table, shouting you’re bi to the whole school. The Magnus Bane way.”

Magnus actually laughs, sniffing slightly. “It’s my coming out.” He says, “Nobody’s going to take that away from me.”

“And then a year later, across that kitchen counter,” he murmurs, “I met you.”

Magnus shakes his head slightly, and when he speaks, there’s pain. “And I knew the look in your eyes. The terror in them that day, I was familiar with, intimately. Nobody else should go through what I did. So, I decided that when you were ready, if you were ready, I would be there to help.” 

He shrugs, smiling slightly but truly. “Just didn’t expect to swan dive for you so quickly and so fiercely.”

“I understand.” Alec sighs, “I’m irresistible.”

Magnus snickers, pinching at Alec’s side. The hammock bucks dangerously, causing a flurry of laughter from the both of them. When they settle, the hammock sways gently again, as if to lull them to sleep.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier?” Alec asks, adjusting his chin on top of Magnus’ hair, “Were you scared?”

Magnus exhales against Alec’s chest. “A bit.” He murmurs, “I’ve always tried to be my own person. And knowing that Camille twisted me to be something I didn’t want to be.. It felt like a betrayal of who I intrinsically am. It’s brings me a lot of shame.”

“Still does.”

Alec says, words barely above a whisper, “Thank you for trusting me, then.”

“Thank you for the gift.” Magnus smiles, his fingers curling protectively against the folded pieces of paper, “I can’t describe how much it means to me. Thank you, so, so much.”

“I wish you gave it to me then.” He murmurs, “I could’ve thanked you much earlier for what you’ve done for me.”

“Then I wouldn’t have such a great first month anniversary present today.”

Magnus looks at him again, smile undecipherable but within it there’s something so deeply embedded. Alec recognizes it, because it’s what he finds in his own smiles, in odd times of the day when the thought of Magnus permeates his mind. Alec realizes the words are inconsequential. He knows, as much as Magus knows. Whether it’s going to be said now, or tomorrow, or ever, he finds it doesn’t matter. As long as they know. And they do.

Alec descends as Magnus ascends, and they catch each other’s mouths in a slow and languid kiss that would go on until the universe collapsed if chance allows them. Alec’s palm presses intimately against the line of Magnus’ jaw, lashes fanned softly, and Magnus noses into his cheek as he enfolds lip against lip.

They push and pull gently, slowly, until they tell each other the words that sit on their tongues, unsaid, but immeasurably felt.

For now, it’s all that matters.

They spend hours in that little, somewhat hidden spot. 

They talk for a bit, taking the built-up inertia of their previous conversations and running with it until they’ve exhausted their talking energy. They go through the cans of beer Magnus had sneaked away from the kitchen earlier on. Alec is pleasantly surprised at how good the beer is, and Magnus supplies that Maia has always had good taste, both in illegally acquired alcohol and men. He mouths _Simon_ and Alec looks at him with bug-eyed wonder. They agree to make plans.

The rest of the time they make out like crazy, buzzed beyond care, giggling into mouths, hands going up backs and skimming skin. And when either of them get too into it, the hammock does its unofficial job of gatekeeping their hormones by swaying underneath them and threatening to dump them both onto the grass. They thank the hammock for its parental supervision.

And true to Magnus’ word, nobody had come barging into their space; not even the drunk teammates they could faintly hear from afar, their laughter growing louder and looser as the night went by. They listen to Simon and Jace break out into a garbled version of that Frozen song all the five-year-olds can’t get enough of. Jace builds up to _I’m never going back, the past is in the past_ and tries to break through the roof of his singing range, but all they hear is a pre-pubescent whine of a high note that sounds like a dog whimpering.

Magnus is trying to control his laughter but it comes out in little whines from his throat, and Alec is full on wheezing. _Oh my god that’s awful_ , Alec just about cries, wiping the corners of his eyes, _he’s an idiot!_ Magnus couldn't do much but squash another laugh and it comes out as a loud snort. They’ve both equalized to three cans of beer each, and they’re both giggle-happy and a bit burpy, so they agree to hold off for a while.

Magnus exhales the last of his laughter. “You kind of want to join them, don’t you?”

Alec grins a little. “Okay, yeah, maybe I do.”

“Let’s go then.” Magnus urges happily, “Don’t worry, we can always come back here. Protected real estate, I mean it.”`

“Okay, fine.” Alec says, “Here we go.”

It takes a concentrated effort not to tip over the entire hammock, but between two slightly buzzed athletes, they manage to clumsily get out and start making their way to the main deck. Alec sighs contentedly, arm slung around Magnus’ shoulder and presses him close. When they resurface, everybody erupts in acknowledgement.

“There they are!” Jace exclaims, arms thrown in the air, “Finally got tired of making out, huh?”

Alec, powered by a harmless buzz and Magnus-related serotonin, hollers back, “I would ask you the same question, but I realized you need an actual someone to make out with.”

It’s an unbelievable explosion of sound. The rest of the team hoots and howls and laughs, and they all pile onto their vice captain like they’re out to form a small hill of victory. It was an absolute mess, and in the middle of it is Alec, groaning and laughing despite his entire team being complete idiots. Magnus chuckles, shaking his head at the sight of it all. He might have to accept the fact that he’ll never see his boyfriend resurface from that pile ever again.

“I’m gonna let that go this time.” Jace drawls, jabbing a finger at the pile’s direction, “Just because it was such a good comeback.”

Amidst the chaos of thirty or so underaged drinkers, a steady pulse of music comes from the living room. Maia sticks her head out of the sliding doors, grinning.

“Come dance you drunk idiots!”

A unanimous cheer rises like fireworks shot into the sky, and the small crowd happily jump out of their seats and into the living room. Magnus looks down to where Alec finally gathers himself up with an aching groan. He takes him by the hand and pulls him up to his feet.

“You gonna dance with me, crinkles?” Magnus grins.

Because he’s Magnus, Alec doesn’t even think twice. He simply smiles back and lets himself be tugged through the sliding doors and into the living room, where a mass of people is already dancing in the space allowed by the rearranged furniture. The lights are dimmed, there’s even a cheap LED disco light throwing colors and shapes everywhere, and the song is undoubtedly great. Magnus leads them to the middle of the moving crowd and pulls him close. He could hear Magnus’ laughs despite the thump of the music around them, a siren over the sound of an angry storm. Arms come up to his neck where it winds languidly, and Alec finds his hands settling onto Magnus’ waist on its own accord. Magnus starts moving beneath his hands, easy and laid-back, and like a musician to a metronome, Alec follows his tempo. He lets himself be overcome by bleary happiness, buzzed and loose.

“Not bad.” Magnus chuckles into his ear, quite impressed, and Alec laughs back.

“I’m an athlete,” he smirks slightly, “I can at least follow a beat.”

“So,” Magnus says, and there’s an air of mischief in the single word, “Remember when I told you I’ll get you back for that shirtless attack?”

Alec blinks down at him, curious. “Yeah..?”

Magnus grins up at him, and Alec can’t decide whether it’s mischievous or just plain evil. He takes Alec’s hand and peels it from his waist, and instead molds it around the zip of the jacket he’s kept closed the entire night. With one fluid motion only a really good dancer can make, he steps back. Alec unwittingly undoes Magnus’ zipper, and consequently, his entire life. 

A roaring cheer punctuated by shrill _oh my gods_ fills the living room like a dust cloud after an explosion, because Magnus is _shirtless under there_ , and when he said he’ll get him back for doing shirtless drills in front of him, he meant I’m going to dance on you in front of all your friends and you’ll _like it_. And Alec already is, if the quiet groan he dispels behind his teeth is any indication. The crowd parts for Magnus like the red sea, and somebody grabs Alec from behind and dumps him onto a chair.

“Buckle up, cowboy!” Izzy yells, cackling, and it’s so painfully obvious now that this has been planned from the moment they had that lunch date down to the kind of sweater Magnus is wearing.

Magnus playfully grins from afar as he strides a wide circle around him, completely to the beat, and Alec would have laughed if not for the fact that he starts actually _dancing_ , like _real dancing_ , things that he’s only watched on Step Up movies. Alec’s jaw grows slack with awe, because _holy shit Magnus is good_ , and also _holy shit he looks perfect under that jacket_. Magnus seem to know exactly what is transpiring in his brain, because the jacket comes off and is tossed to a screaming crowd. 

What was Step Up veers furiously into Magic Mike, and by the time Magnus is on Alec with a snicker and a kiss to the cheek, Alec has hidden his face behind a hand, peeking through the space between his fingers. His face is completely beet red and warm to the touch, shoulders shaking in laughter, and he’s embarrassed beyond reprieve but inexplicably giddy with happiness. 

When Magnus finally decides he’s gotten his retribution in full, he finally pulls ruddy-cheeked Alec from the chair and slots himself back within the circle of his arms. The crowd fills the space again like everything has reverted back to what it once was. Magnus laughs, and Alec sourly squeezes him into a half-hearted embrace.

“Satisfied?” Alec asks, completely sourpussed. 

Magnus grins. “I don’t know, are you?”

Alec rolls his eyes with so much fondness it was unbearable. “Okay, yeah.” He admits, “I guess house parties aren’t half as bad as I made it out to be.”

“Good, because I’m hosting one in two weeks.”

“ _I hate you_.” Alec groans, except he doesn't, and he feels the complete opposite.

Magnus only laughs, holding him closer.

This time, they don't go their separate ways.


	9. Alec Lightwood Wants to Drop the L Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus takes Alec’s hand in his own. “Don’t hide.” He says softly, “It’s just me.”
> 
> It’s never just Magnus, Alec thinks. Magnus is everything. He is his life’s markers; there is only before him and all that brightly follows after. Alec is wordless, but he smiles small. 
> 
> Magnus smiles.
> 
> “C’mere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still cannot believe we're at the second to the last chapter of [REDACTED]. At this point is where I become very sappy and maybe cry about our babies, but I'll save the waterworks for the last chapter. This is a chapter of time lapses and vignettes, and though I promised the prom scene here initially, it's going to be on the last chapter instead. I so deeply enjoyed writing this chapter, so I hope you feel the same reading it!
> 
> I'm @nhixxie on twitter and follow #nhixxiefic if you're into the live tweeting.

October is Catarina’s favorite month of the year because it’s her birthday. 

She plans her vacation hours around it. Somehow the hospital approves her requests for the same range of dates every single time. So October usually means Magnus is sleeping over at Clary’s for a couple of weeks, but the past year, Cat’s been more lenient with leaving the house in Magnus’ care. _You’re a good kid. You’re smart, and mature. I trust you_ , she says, _but I also have Mrs. Hadfield watching out, so, fair warning._

Magnus only laughs, shaking his head at the thought. Mrs. Hadfield is seventy years old and needs bilateral hearing aids to function. She won’t be able to watch out for much and Cat knows that, which is why Jocelyn’s number is on his cellphone’s speed dial.

This year she’s hiking Machu Picchu.

“You’re almost too cool, you know that, right?” Magnus asks as he watches Catarina roll her shirts. Her hiking backpack lays agape on her bed, already filled halfway. 

“Well, you certainly don’t mention it enough.” She points out teasingly.

“Don’t want to inflate your ego _that_ much.” Magnus teases back, snickering. He dumps himself onto the mattress, lazily looking through her travel-sized skin products. 

Catarina holds up a skin-tight black dress for Magnus to judge. “What do you think? For clubbing in the city.”

Magnus squints in thought as he deposits a small bleb of Cat’s lotion on the back of his hand. “I like the red one better.”

Catarina works the inside of her mouth between her teeth, assessing the leftover space in her backpack. “It’s bulkier though.” 

“Then loose a shirt and a pant.” Magnus says nonchalantly, “Cat, that black dress is nearing its final stages in life.”

Catarina sighs, plucking at the black dress affectionately. “You’re right. You’ve gotten me through many drunken nights, my friend.”

“Or days.” Magnus quips and laughingly ducks as the balled-up dress hits the headboard instead.

“Nursing school was stressful, you little gremlin!” Catarina laughs, “Gotta decompress somehow!”

“She’s going to the hall of fame, then. Rest in peace, you legend.” Magnus grins, taking the black dress from where it landed and folding it meticulously. He cradles the piece of clothing in one arm and raises a metaphorical glass. “To..?”

Catarina thinks. “Tiffany Candace.”

Magnus makes a face, because did she really have to conjoin two stripper names to make a stripper mega name? Catarina snickers as she raises her own non-existent glass.

“Tiffany Candace.” He repeats, and his mouth felt gross just saying the name. “Gone, but never forgotten.” They toss back their fake shots, giggling. 

Catarina folds the red dress and then rolls it as compactly as she can. Magnus is sniffing the small spray bottle of perfume in her make up kit when she slaps her palms onto her knees decisively.

“Okay.” She says, “Let’s get this over with.”

Magnus raises his eyes to Catarina Loss, his legal guardian, take-no-shit emergency nurse extraordinaire, his mother’s life-long best friend, an older sister more than a second mother, the coolest person in the world. He reminds himself of all these things because the topic she’s going to breach is one that might topple her down a couple of rungs down the coolness ladder. 

“Cat, please.” Magnus groans, face blanching slightly.

“Nope.” Catarina says definitively, “I’m not stupid, you’re going to be alone in a house for more than a week, and you have a boyfriend that _I have yet to meet_ , by the way.” 

She looks at him pointedly in that protective sister way she does, and Magnus looks back guiltily. 

“It’s Alec.”

Catarina’s brows rise to her hairline. “The Lightwood boy? Izzy’s brother? The football player?”

“I’ll explain later, maybe over brunch or something, just get this part over with.” Magnus says hurriedly, waving his hand in a panicked gesture.

“Okay.” Catarina says, gently now, “Are you being safe?”

“We haven’t done anything.” Magnus says, hand fidgeting through her make up kit.

“Do you guys think you’ll be doing something in the future?” she asks, and she’s really good at this, just as she was with the past relationships he’s had. Her brilliant nursing bedside values really come in handy in times like these. 

It makes his next answer easier to dispense. “Yes, I believe so. We’ve talked about it.”

“Okay.” She says, “Do either of you need to drop by the clinic?”

Magnus puffs his cheeks; it’s red, but he doesn’t feel as nervous as he did initially. “He doesn’t, but it’s been years for me, and there’s nothing wrong?”

Catarina shakes her head slightly. “You still should just to be safe. Sometimes these things don’t have symptoms. The clinic by Ledger’s the closest one, I think.” She peers into his eyes. “You’re okay to go on your own?”

“I think I’ll be okay.” Magnus says.

“Okay.” Catarina says, a finger in the air, “Last one, I promise.”

Magnus feels the light at the end of the tunnel and he sure hope to god it’s sunlight and not a rampaging train.

“Is he treating you well?” Catarina asks.

Catarina was there during the Camille thing. She marched right up to the principal’s office with that ER, no-bullshit bravado that she wields when needed. She was partly the reason why they were able to transfer Camille to another school, never to wreak her havoc onto Magnus for the rest of his high school years. Cat had been so thoroughly there for him that the only memory Magnus allows of that time of his life is the both of them quietly sitting by the front porch, and her cheekily giving him his first bottle of Bud Light. He lasted a mere three gulps before deciding it made him too burpy. 

And when Catarina asks her last question, her true intentions show—she is fearful, as she is worried, as she is hopeful.

Magnus misses Surya Bane so much. But he can’t imagine not having Catarina Loss either.

He smiles. “Cat, he’s the kindest person I know.”

She then nods, smiling back. “Good.”

“Now help me hang Tiffany Candace onto the wall next that painting. It’s what she deserves.”

November sets a chill over New York that adds an additional layer over everybody’s usual clothing. Autumn reddens the foliage, and it warns of the impending arrival of winter. It reminds Magnus to look into his closet and start adding warmer clothes. Maybe he should scour Alec’s for a hoodie he can quietly borrow. God knows he has enough to last a lifetime.

Magnus shivers slightly as they stand by for the first game of the school year to start. He stands by their spot in front of the home crowd, his extra long-sleeved layer under his uniform not quite shielding him from the nippy breeze that blows over the football field. He gives his arms a quick rub, gritting his teeth together to keep them from chattering. He envies the wave of people before them, huddled together and wrapped in fleecy jackets and thick scarves. 

“Magnus, you’re ruining it.” Clary complains, repositioning her grip on the colored eyeliner in her hand.

“Sorry,” he mutters, tries not to move his cheek too much as Clary draws a red ‘22’ on his face. The ‘AL’ on the other side looks okay, but Clary’s usual steady hand wavered with the drop in temperature.

“Well, that’s the best that can be.” She decides, capping the liner and tossing it into her duffel. She grins. “Alec will love it.”

“My god, they just don’t stop do they?” Maia laughs, jumping up and down onto the balls of his feet in an effort to warm up.

“Welcome to our world.” Izzy tries to complain, but she doesn’t reject the grin that fills her face. “See the shit we have to live with?”

“Shush.” Magnus laughs, pink in the cheeks from the words or from the cold, one may never know.

Clary turns to Maia, eyeing her teasingly. “Do you want Simon’s number on your face?”

Maia grins in return. “Fuck yes.”

“I can do yours when you’re done with Maia.” Izzy says, giving her legs a quick stretch.

“Nah,” Clary says, eyes on her work, “The one I like doesn’t have a jersey on.”

The crowd erupts in a booming cheer as their school mascot rev them up for the upcoming game. Idris is playing Erasmus Hall, third in the rankings of New York’s best high school teams, about three spots higher from where their own team sits. They have an offensive line that’s significantly larger than theirs, but Idris has a better quarterback in the form of Jace, who studies practice and game film almost to his own detriment. And with Coach Garroway tweaking everybody’s workout routines and putting more hours of endurance training even on the weekends, the size difference might just be conquerable. 

Magnus wonders how Alec is doing. They haven’t seen each other for a long time due to the training constraints this game has imposed, and facetime just isn’t the same. Magnus had even come to realize that it’s unusual driving to school without Alec in the front seat. His endurance training involved running extra laps on the school track at the crack of dawn, which means he’s at school as early as six in the morning. For the first few days, Magnus tried to get to school as early as he did; Alec had to drive and Magnus had to get picked up because it would be impossible to drive half-asleep and drooling. He simply ended up bundling his pink blanket around himself and curling into a nap on the bleachers as Alec ran his laps.

 _See?_ Magnus remembers himself mumbling as Alec woke him up with a kiss on the forehead and fingers through his hair, _told you my blanket would come in handy._

Alec had smiled down at him. _Yeah, yeah. Come on._

It has been two whole weeks since he’d seen that smile in person. 

Magnus whines morosely, _I miss my crinkles._

That had been fourteen days. If this is an indication of how much they’re going to have to endure when they leave high school and go to their own choice of post-secondary education, Magnus is going to be sadly yearning _a lot_. He already hates it. 

Finally, the commentator up at the booth blares his opening remarks, bringing the entire school to their feet. A wall of sound that consists of the home crowd’s cheers and the school marching band’s instruments rises into the air, and by the time the Idris Archangels are called to the field, they are met with a victorious roar that reaches its fever pitch. The cheer squad goes through their motions; they’re on their feet, jumping up and down, hands gesturing to the crowd— _more, more, more_ —and then Maia motions for the crowd to start with player cheers.

It’s tradition to start their rallies with rattling off cheers for individual players. The squad started doing it since the dawn of time, and it’s been carried through as a sign of support between the squad and their football team. It’s a basic cheer, and one of the squad members always hold up signs for the crowd so they can follow along. Magnus has been the only one to go from being cheered on to doing the cheering. He quite likes being special that way. 

_Let’s go, Bhandari, let’s go!_

_Let’s go, Herondale, let’s go!_

Magnus takes a peek over his shoulder, watching as their team gather around the bench, making last-minute adjustments to their helmets and slipping their mouth guards in. 

_Let’s go, Lewis, let’s go!_

_Let’s go, Santiago, let’s go!_

Magnus missteps; usually that’s where Alec goes, since they go through names alphabetically. Unusual. He’s about to look back to double-check with Izzy, but he spots Alec’s number by the bench, caught between a serious conversation with Jace and Coach Garroway. Alec looks completely honed it, a picture of complete concentration as he goes through final plays with his coach and captain. And _holy shit_ does he look perfect. Alec Lightwood is the smartest person in this school, a running back for the football team, and he’s stunningly handsome. And he is all _his_. Magnus finally feels a little warm in the neck. 

_Let’s go, Underhill, let’s go!_

It’s Jace that he catches eyes with, and even behind his helmet Magnus could see him grin. He tells Alec something, and it breaks his one hundred percent concentration cleanly in half. He whips his head towards Magnus’ direction and sees the _22_ on his left cheek and _AL_ on his right, and immediately his eyes twinkle with a bright, up-to-the-eyes smile. He could already imagine the adorable lines around his eyes. _I miss him_ , Magnus inwardly groans again, lips pressed tightly in an almost pout. He debates whether it’s improper for him to quickly run to the bench. Probably yes.

_Let’s go Velazquez, let’s go!_

Alec doesn’t try to say anything—nothing can penetrate through the wall of sound around them—so he raises his wrist instead, taps on it. Magnus has to squint but he sees it, the woven bracelet he had given Alec last week in passing, bearing the colors of the pride flag. Alec smiles from behind his helmet, as proud as the what the flag signifies. 

Alec Lightwood, the first out high school football player in their league, playing his first game as a proud gay man. Magnus struggles to keep his eyes from watering. 

The player cheer winds to its last name, and Magnus has lost track of where they are.

_Let’s go, Lightwood, let’s go!_

The crowd erupts into another victorious roar, and Magnus sees Alec’s face fall before him. He doesn’t understand, confused as to what could’ve made Alec’s eyes go from twinkling with happiness to glistening with held-back tears, until he looks back to his squad and sees a rainbow flag stretched along the line that they make. The home crowd bears the same color, waving small flaglets in the air, one they seem to have been given but strategically hidden out of sight. He looks back at Alec who visibly sniffs, eyes down on his feet, his teammates bumping their helmets affectionately with his. He gives the crowd a grateful nod before running out to the field.

Izzy winks at Magnus, and he’s too choked up to say anything back. 

“We wanted to surprise you too.” Izzy yells happily over the noise, like she already knows what he wanted to ask.

Magnus wants to go to Alec _right now._

It’s not until after the game, one that they have cleanly won with ten points to spare, that Alec finally stumbles out of his team’s triumphant huddle to go to Magnus. He had made three clean goals for Idris, one of them featuring an absolutely savage ninety-yard run that had stunned Erasmus Hall’s offense. He takes off his helmet, tosses it to the bench and just about runs to Magnus who watches him with brazen pride, softly awestruck. 

The last time Alec crossed the field to come to him, it was with utter trepidation. Hands fumbling in that spot in his hand he usually, unconsciously punishes, but with eyes that bravely burn. 

“Hey.” Alec is breathless, a smile warmly filling the apples of his cheeks. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, a dreadful habit for Magnus, because it makes Alec’s mouth shine splendidly under the lights. _What a difference_ , Magnus thinks tenderly. 

“I’m so proud of you, Alexander.”

“Thank you.” Alec says, grinning fondly, sweat-slicked and completely exhausted; beautiful. “And thanks for cheering me on.”

Magnus grins back up at him. “Oh, that was my pleasure.”

“I missed you.” he continues, fingers flicking away a wet curl that dangles over Alec’s forehead, “Does this mean I get you back from Coach Garroway now?”

Alec laughs. “At least for a bit. And I missed you too.” he takes a step closer, “Give me a minute to shower.”

Magnus laughs. “Oh no, no, I’m not waiting for that.”

Alec chuckles under his breath, hands settling on the dip of Magnus’ back and pulling him closer. “Okay. Then can I ask you something?”

Magnus’ eyes shine with remembrance. He recites the words like a fresh memory.

“What can I do for you, Alec?”

Alec grins, relishing in the cheekiness of it all. He bumps their foreheads together, and they’re so close Magnus can see the individual drops on the sheen of perspiration on Alec’s neck. They ignore the eyes bearing into them in all directions, blocks out the loud, post-game chatter that blankets the air.

“Can I kiss you?”

Magnus gives him the same proud grin, and the same small wink. He tucks a curl behind Alec’s ear, fingers settling at the angle of his jaw. 

“Show ‘em.”

And Alec does, presses his mouth against Magnus’ as encompassing as their lips would allow, barely fighting the smile that tries to push through. 

They kiss fully, happily, freely. 

And what joy such a simple thing gives. 

  


Magnus riffles through the contents of Alec’s backpack, squinting.

“Are you sure it’s in your bag?” He yells from inside Alec’s room.

He hears far away voice from the bottom of the stairs. “It should be? Look through my binder!”

Magnus fishes said binder out of the bag and goes through its contents, keeping in an eye out for the familiar yellow booklet he’s in search of. In his pursuit to find it, he flips through blank loose leaf, advanced calculus notes, and bored scribblings of football plays surrounded by Taylor Swift lyrics. What a fucking nerd his boyfriend is. 

“Well?” Alec calls.

“Still looking!” Magnus calls back. It takes him a couple more flips before he finally finds it, almost to the very back. He pops open the rings and unslots the booklet, careful not to rip out the loose leaf underneath. 

He puts everything back to its proper place and is about to get up when he spots a familiar logo sticking out of a textbook from Alec’s extra Anatomy and Physiology class. Magnus knows what it is; he spent a whole afternoon going through the NYU scholarship form with Alec in order to make sure he ‘sounds smart’ on his personal essay, which is so impossibly dumb when Alec is the smartest student he knows. Alec submitted his form a week ago. 

Magnus thinks he knows whose this one is for.

Alec calls out again. “Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” Magnus calls back, zipping Alec’s bag back up. “I’m coming down.”

He rises to his feet and closes Alec’s door behind him. 

December came swiftly, and boy did it come with a vengeance this year. 

Magnus snuggles deeper into his parka as he rings the doorbell to the mahogany house that he’s come to be so familiar with. His feet are cold, and he just trudged through a four-inch thick layer of snow with boots that definitely aren’t made for snowshoeing. And the drive—Magnus is just going to have to chalk it up to whoever or whatever is up there looking after him. For a while there he thought his car might become one with a lamp post. 

The door opens and Alec pulls him into the house worriedly. “Are you okay?” he asks, “Snow’s crazy out there. The drive must’ve been shitty.”

Magnus speaks through slightly chattering teeth, handing Alec the covered dish he has cradled in his arms. “It was a bit touch and go.”

Alec rolls his eyes fondly as he sets the dish onto the foyer table. “Way to downplay.” He takes Magnus’ coat and scarf. “Heard we’re gonna get even more snow through the night, but at least you have winter tires.”

 _Oof_. Magnus presses his lips together guiltily. Yeah, he most definitely doesn’t, and that widely-swung left turn into Haverford is proof of it. Alec had been chirping at him to get his tires switched since last month, and said boyfriend furrows his brow in reprimand at revelation. It could’ve stricken more fear in Magnus if not for the fact that he could easily weasel his way out of this predicament with a choice strategy. 

Magnus smiles hopefully. “Sorry and Merry Christmas?”

It’s simple, but it works.

Alec tries _really hard_ , Magnus could see it in the way he scrunches his nose, but ultimately, he’s weak. The holiday cheer and his general proclivity to give into anything Magnus says or does has made him so. 

“You better pray the weatherman got it wrong today.” He mumbles, and Magnus laughs, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. 

They make their way through the familiar living room, and Magnus takes everything in. The house looks amazing. There’s garland and pinecones hung along the windows and a towering Christmas tree stands at a corner, gifts teeming at its feet. The fire place is crackling with warm, orange flames, and there’s six stockings pinned across it. Magnus vaguely sees his own name stitched across the last one, and if he there was any sourness in his mood earlier, there’s definitely none now. 

“It’s so nice and peaceful here.” Magnus comments contentedly, and Alec actually snorts.

“I hope you enjoyed it, because that’s all the peace you’re gonna get.”

As if on cue, there’s blur of movement accompanied by the scurrying sound of paws scratching the floor. It makes Alec jump back, dish raised higher to save it from accidentally spilling its contents.

“Max, don’t run in the house!” Alec yells, and Magnus sees two figures jump onto the couch with a happy giggle. He turns to Magnus quickly. “I should put this down before it goes flying.”

Magnus nods, grinning slightly as Alec disappears into the kitchen.

“It wasn’t me!” The eight-year old calls out, trying to escape from the sloppy kisses the German Shepperd dog is trying to give him, “It’s Shadow’s fault, he won’t leave me alone!”

Max peeks around the dog’s encompassing frame and catches sight of Magnus standing by the staircase. His entire face lights up.

“Are you Magnus?!” he yells the question, wincing as Shadow finally gets to lick a stripe up his face, “I’m Max! Remember me?”

Magnus had only ever met Max over the phone a few weeks ago, and the kid had talked his ear off for a whole ten minutes and still had enough energy to describe to Alec what god forsaken thing Shadow decided to eat two days ago. He’s a cute kid who can probably power the entirety of New York City.

Magnus laughs. “Of course I remember you, Max. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Max stares at him wide-eyed as he clambers off the couch, Shadow following his tail. “Is it true you can tumble? Can you teach me? I only know how to cartwheel, see look—”

“No no no Max, definitely no cartwheeling in the house!” Alec calls out hurriedly, “Shadow, c’mere, sit boy—” 

“Is Magnus here?!” Izzy shouts from the second floor, and Alec peers up the stairs and hollers yes. 

It takes a mere moment for her to throw her door open and thunder down the staircase, and before Magnus knows it there’s three different Lightwoods on him trying to get his attention—one hanging off his arm trying to get tumbling pointers, the other trying to get him to smell the new lip gloss she got from the mall, the other _other_ pressed against his back and using his shoulder as a chin rest, jeering about his sister’s upcoming credit card bill with all her _sephora this, sephora that_ —and that doesn’t even include the non-human Lightwood whining and pawing at his feet.

Magnus would lose his mind if he isn’t so damn in love with it all.

“Lightwoods, get off our guest, please!” Maryse laughs from the kitchen, wiping her hands against a towel, “He’ll think we have no manners!”

“Mom, what’re you talking about? I am nice!” Max protests from under Magnus’ arm, “Alec’s the meanie, he won’t let me show Magnus my cartwheel!”

Alec stares at Max, bug-eyed. “Why you little—”

“See, mom, look!” Max cries out as he ducks and clings onto Magnus’ leg, the same one Shadow is currently nosing with a whimper.

Izzy pinches Alec’s side. “You should’ve let him do a cartwheel, he’s only here so often.”

“He’ll break something.” 

“As long as it’s not his neck, what’s the big deal?”

“Oh my god _that’s what I mean_ —"

Alec and Izzy start arguing across Magnus’ breathing space, and Max and Shadow are now playing with the hem of his pant, and they’re veering off to yet again another wave of noisy banter— 

“Again, Lightwoods! Let Magnus breathe, please!” she exclaims, and everyone finally settles. She turns to Max however, unabashedly fond. “I’m sure it’s a great cartwheel, my love.”

Max huffs proudly. “Thank you!”

Alec rolls his eyes; _favoritism._

“You guys are fun.” Magnus grins, still struggling with the weight of all the siblings on him, “It’s usually just me and Cat during the holidays.”

“If you don’t mind a noisy Christmas, you’re at the right place.” Maryse laughs, “Let’s get started with dinner before it gets cold. Come on, butts on the chairs please.” 

Max finally unloads himself from Magnus’ leg, and Alec, with much difficulty, peels himself away. He drags Izzy off Magnus’ elbow, as if to say _I’m hands off, you’re hands off_. They all make their way to the dining room where the table has been set in the same, fanciful way the entire house is decorated. Food steams from expensive looking china, and it smells as good as it looks. There’s a glazed ham that smells like maple syrup, and potatoes au gratin in another dish, among the other five plates in front of them. Magnus knew Maryse can cook, but he hadn’t known she can cook _this good_. Thank god he decided on doing some baking instead. Dessert is always safe, and it doesn’t try to square up to any of the dishes cooked by the host.

“Is Catarina working tonight?” Maryse asks as they all settle into their seats.

Magnus nods as he pulls his chair closer to the table. “It’s her turn to work Christmas eve, but we have Christmas day and New Years together.” He says fondly, “She works in the same hospital as you do, actually. She’s an ER nurse.”

“Mom, she’s really cool.” Izzy gushes as she settles in her seat, “She always does cool hiking trips and she’s really funny.”

“Well, hopefully I can meet her soon?” Maryse asks kindly, and there’s a hint of teasing in her voice which makes Alec’s cheeks just the right side of pink. He quirks a small smile at Magnus, which he returns in full.

Magnus chuckles, placing his gaze onto Maryse. “I’m sure she’d love that.”

“Okay.” She smiles, “We’ll set a date.”

Max whines, patting his belly. “Can we eat now? I’m hungry and I wanna open presents!”

Maryse laughs, “Of course my love.”

They dig in, and of course everything is amazing. Maryse reminds everyone mid-chew that Shadow is on a diet for his smidge of dog diabetes, and that they should refrain from indulging the furry Lightwood for his own good. And it’s _hard_ , not when Shadow has pleading eyes that disarm and a whine that shoots straight to the heart. Max has completely ignored the warnings; he tries to clandestinely sling bits of meat towards the dog who’s lurking around hopefully. Izzy is secretly flicking morsels off her plate and onto the floor, and Alec pretends to scratch his ankle when he’s actually peddling dessert.

Maryse notices ten minutes in, and it’s partly because Magnus is staring at all three Lightwood siblings with so much amusement in his eyes. _Oh, what the heck_ , she sighs in surrender, _it’s Christmas_. Shadow happily takes it.

The further into dinner they go, the more languid and comfortable their conversations are. Magnus is asked what his post-graduation plans are, and he somehow ends up talking about classical literature and which works he favored over the rest. Izzy quips at Alec about his desk pile of college applications, and after two weeks of sitting on the news, he finally mumbles under his breath that NYU has contacted him for an early interview for one of their scholarships. Izzy yells and Maryse gasps, and they adorn him with praise and supportive words. Alec, of course, tries to sink into his chair. 

“ _Stooop_ ,” he groans in embarrassment as he slinks behind Magnus, his human comfort blanket, “It’s not even for sure yet!”

Magnus simply laughs, reaching back and giving Alec’s cheek small, affectionate scratch. He had known since the day Alec received the letter. And just as he had known then, he knows now that the interview is nothing but a formality. Alec will get that scholarship. Magnus couldn’t be prouder even if he tried. 

It’s when they’re seated along the living room carpet among ripped up gift wrapping and boxes of Christmas chocolate that Shadow pads sleepily towards Magnus, satiated by Christmas dinner and ready for a good nap. He stops, circles in his place, and plops right by Magnus’ knees, head warmly snuggled onto his lap.

Alec squints an eye down onto Shadow who looks up at him questioningly.

“That’s my spot.”

Magnus chuckles, scratching Shadow’s head softly. “Not tonight, crinkles.”

Alec huffs and sidles as close as he can against Magnus, settling his head into the dip of his neck, as if to say _this is the last time I’m taking second place_. Shadow pays him no mind, eyes already fluttering close. 

Magnus takes in the garland, and the pinecones, and the Christmas tree, its multi-colored lights glinting at him. He takes in Max dancing around the model rocket Izzy and Maryse is trying to assemble for him on the carpet. He takes in Shadow sleeping soundly on his lap. Magnus can’t remember the last time his Christmas had teemed with so much people and was filled with so much sound.

It’s nice. It’s something he thought he hadn’t missed, but appreciates so thoroughly now that it’s what he has.

The model rocket currently halfway into construction sways dangerously after another piece is attached, and Izzy, Maryse, and Max all shriek in fear as they try to prop it back up. Shadow bolts awake, blinking furiously at the commotion, and Alec laughs from where he’s slotted against him, deep rumblings echoing from his chest.

“Merry Christmas, Alexander.” Magnus murmurs amidst the warm chaos, and says the words like one would say _I love you_.

Alec smiles up to him, says his words the same way.

“Merry Christmas, Magnus.”

Max looks back at them both, then tramples over ripped wrapping paper to pull Magnus by the hand, unwedging him from a protesting Alec's side. _Come play with us, Magnus,_ Max exclaims, eyes dancing, and how can he refuse? He looks back at Alec with a small wink and lets himself be sat down next to Maryse who happily welcomes him to the assembly team.

Alec watches it all, softly smiling. He peers down at Shadow who’s blinking wistfully at the same sight, so he gives the dog a good scratch behind the ear.

“I’m guessing you like him too?”

Shadow yawns, licking his chops before settling back down onto his paws.

Alec chuckles. “I don’t blame you.”

Magnus raises a brow. “Stop moping.”

Alec, naturally, mopes.

It takes them five months into their relationship to breach the topic of Bring it On.

If Magnus knows anything about Alexander Gideon Lightwood, it’s that he is a stubborn creature of habit. He wakes up at six-fifteen AM on a school day, wears a variation of the hoodie/denim combo, and is waiting for Magnus on his front porch by seven. 

One time, Magnus wanted to take a different route to school so they can see some of the autumnal reds of the Sugar Maples by Oxford Street, and Alec nervously vibrated in his seat the entire time. _Crinkles, relax_ , Magnus had said with a laugh, which was met with a _we’re gonna be late for school_. Magnus shook his head slightly, chuckling. Alec has been working so much to better himself since that fated first day of school—he touches with bravado, he works through what he feels, he tries to tell Magnus what he wants. But some things just can’t be changed, and sometimes, it doesn’t have to be. Magnus likes that Alec is stubborn as all hell; it’s what makes him stand tall in a crowd, unnerved of looks and whispers. 

It’s what made him cross that field in the first place.

But it’s _also_ what makes him the type to rewatch all the seasons of Parks and Recreation a fourth time in a row than start on a new show just because everyone won’t shut up about it. _I’ll add it to the list_ , Alec nonchalantly says as said watch list exponentially grows, a garbage wasteland.

So when Magnus first touched upon the subject of watching the movie, Alec had put up quite a fight.

“I’ve literally grown up hearing this movie blasting from Izzy’s room, I basically watched it already.”

“Nope, not a good enough excuse.”

“I have this classic lit paper I have to write.”

“That’s due in three whole weeks.”

“Not everybody is like you, Mr. Jane Austen.”

“It’s an hour and a half long movie.”

“So is an hour and a half long stroll in the park, we can get ice cream?”

“In mid-winter?”

“Cake?”

“No.”

“ _Who are you?_ ”

February 22, 2020 is the day Magnus Bane finally convinced Alexander Lightwood to watch the cheerleading world’s most iconic film. Of course, Magnus had employed some choice strategies; first of all, in return, he agrees to watching two football-centric movies. Bit of an unfair trade-off, but whatever. The other tactics that Magnus had to use—well, he’s not proud of it, but there’s only one way to make a cuddle-starved monster listen.

Magnus has already cast the movie onto his television when Alec finally comes around with the snacks. He reaches out and grabs the chocolate like he’s been craving it for centuries, and Alec plops onto the bed with a sigh of submission. He grabs a handful of popcorn and feeds it into his mouth.

“Okay.” Alec mumbles through a mouthful, “Let’s get it over with.”

“You’re such a baby.” Magnus comments, picking up his glass from the bedside table and taking a sip, “I agreed to watch two movies for you. _Two._ ”

“But you like football.” Alec gripes, “So really all three of the movies we’re watching are all for you.”

Magnus rolls his eyes. “Like is an overstatement.” He turns to him, eyeing him pointedly. “You know, I could be forcing you to watch a period piece with complicated dialogue and couples standing six feet away from each other lest they are seen showing affection.”

Alec looks at him, face blanched. “No, please.”

“Then put your big boy pants on.” Magnus says, “We’re watching this and you’re going to like it. Now come here and cuddle me you whiny baby.”

“It’s always _you baby_ and never just _baby_..” Alec grumbles, but still shimmies into his natural spot, flush against Magnus’ side. Magnus arm goes around him and it unconsciously tangles through Alec’s hair, now a habit he can’t quite break. He gives him a soft shush and takes another bite off his chocolate bar as the opening credits start to roll.

Alec has a lot to say about the movie as it starts— _what kind of a name is Torrance, how do five-time national cheerleading championship winners fuck up a relatively easy looking pyramid, and that Aaron guy is the word ‘heeby jeebies’ in human form_. Magnus can’t negate any of it; Bring it On defies common sense sometimes and definitely has some problematic themes, but _man_ are the cheers iconic. Times we’re definitely different then. 

And then Alec finds his favorite character, which is obviously Eliza Dushku’s Missy who walks into cheer tryouts with a middle finger to her sharpie tattoo. _What a fucking badass_ , he gushes, and actually gasps a small gasp when she completes Darcy’s standard procedure back tuck. _Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet_ , Magnus grins, and then it comes—Whitney rattles off the iconic long-winded tumbling pass that Magnus recites along to verbatim. And when Missy does it without even breaking a sweat and with a smirk on her face, Alec is _in love_. He even gets Magnus to pause the movie when he runs to the bathroom, which is a win for Magnus and the entire Bring it On franchise. 

By the time Hey Mickey plays and the end credits roll, Alec is transformed.

Magnus hasn’t felt triumph like this since he came out in front of the entire school. 

“So?” he asks cheekily, “How’d you like it?”

Alec rolls his eyes. “Don’t look so proud of yourself.”

“Did I not say you were gonna like it?”

“Isn’t it enough to know you we’re right?” Alec whines, “Do you really have to rub it in my face?”

“Of course I do.” Magnus smirks, “That’s the best part of being right.”

“Whatever, I can still bench press more than you.” Alec says proudly, to which Magnus snorts.

“I lift actual _people_ , Alexander.” He points out.

“You lift teeny, tiny girls!”

Magnus raises a brow. “I can lift _you_.”

Alec’s mouth runs dry, heart sputtering in his chest, and he can’t breathe all of a sudden.

“Yeah?” he unwittingly whispers, and the words fall out of his mouth low and gravelly on its own accord. 

Magnus watches the bump on Alec’s throat bob up and down as he swallows thickly, and it makes him smile. He murmurs, “You like that, huh?”

Alec reverts to his usual go to: an embarrassed groan and a spot to hide behind his hands, stubbornly refusing to engage in anything that could be remotely sexual despite feeling it deep within his bones. Magnus doesn’t like it. Alec wants so thoroughly and so strongly but won’t let himself have.

Magnus takes Alec’s hand in his own. “Don’t hide.” He says softly, “It’s just me.”

It’s never just Magnus, Alec thinks. Magnus is everything. He is his life’s markers; there is only before him and all that brightly follows after. 

Alec is wordless, but he smiles small. Magnus peels himself off Alec’s side and sits to the edge of his bed, feet touching the floor.

“C’mere.” 

Alec follows, his weight shifting the mattress just like the time Magnus first woke him up on a Saturday morning. He settles on the spot next to him, legs dangling off the bed, heart hammering heavily against the cage of his ribs. They sit side-by-side for a moment, again, at a precipice.

“Sit on my lap.” Magnus murmurs.

Alec _burns_ , considers fleeing, a reflexive habit he’s built over the years when it comes any kind of physical intimacy. Unlike the protected real estate of their hammock, there’s no alcohol this time. It’s just him, Magnus, and sharp awareness of everything. Magnus must see his mind run amok because he holds his hand, fingers tumbling against his until they slot into place. It reminds Alec of who he’s with, who Magnus is. The one he could trust the most. The one who will not judge him for what he wants, and his inexperience when it comes to it.

So Alec rises, digs a knee into the mattress right next to Magnus’ thigh, and sets the other one down to bracket Magnus’ hips. He settles onto his new spot; warm, nervous, breathless. Magnus touches his waist with his free hand, gentle.

“What do you want, Alexander?” Magnus asks, words low but softly attentive. It’s not a confrontation, but a conversation. Alec knows what he means; _do you want to stop_? No, fuck no, Alec doesn’t want that at all. _What do you want to do?_ The question asks so much vulnerability from him, and _fuck_ it’s hard to answer, but Alec reminds himself again—this is Magnus. The best person he’s ever known.

“Not all the way.” Alec mutters, throat moving up and down, “But I want to feel like I’m with you.”

“Okay.” Magnus quirks a smile, tender. “Then kiss me, crinkles.” 

It elicits a small chuckle from Alec, lifting dread he didn’t even realize was pressing onto his chest. His nerves are still frayed, but there’s a heavy want that blooms within his gut, freed the moment he pushed away his apprehension. He sweeps down slow, angling just right, pressing a preamble of a kiss to the corner of Magnus’ mouth, smiling as he feels Magnus lean into it like it’s something he seeks. With the courage it gives, Alec fully pushes his lips against Magnus’, catching him mid-breath and open-mouthed. 

Magnus presses back into him, eyes fluttered close, nosing into Alec’s cheek as he enfolds lips against lips. Magnus licks into Alec like a reminder— _you’re alright_. They kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss, moving against each other for what it feels like forever but also a blip of a moment, never-ending but still not quite enough. 

Magnus’ hands slip softly under Alec’s hoodie, skimming lines over the plane of his back, fingertips barely touching. It illuminates every synapse of Alec’s body like claps of lightning breaking the sky in half, and it makes him falter from Magnus’ mouth. He shudders breathlessly with every line carved softly against his skin, hips bucking and rolling down against Magnus’ like a reflex he’s been consciously trying to withhold for the longest time. 

Alec almost feels embarrassed, but Magnus doesn’t allow him to be, not when his own breaths stutter, not when they can both feel each other’s hardness through their pants. Magnus plunges into Alec’s mouth again, kissing deeply, the line of his brow furrowed with want as he bucks up against him. _More, Alexander, please_ , he whispers, and it all unravels something within Alec as he ruts deeper against Magnus’ clothed cock. 

“ _Fuck_ , Magnus,” he grits as his fingers scramble against Magnus’ shoulders. He finds Magnus’ mouth grazing the lobe of his ear, kissing small bruises against the juncture of his neck and shoulder, tongue lapping soothingly afterwards. 

Magnus moves underneath him in big motions—he hooks his hands under Alec’s knees, lifts him easily like he’s barely carrying anything, and let them both fall against the bed with an airy _oof_. Alec _giggles_ for crying out loud, and Magnus cheekily grins above him, hair mussed beyond saving, completely and utterly kissed.

“Told you I can lift you.” He teases, and Alec rolls his eyes, mirthful.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up and kiss me.” He commands, stubbornness surging as he grabs fistfuls of Magnus’ shirt to drag him closer. 

Said shirt is lost, so is Alec’s hoodie as it flies to the corner of Magnus’ room, and their hands work blindly to unzip pants and push them down far enough to at least release their erections. Magnus kisses Alec like he wants to collect every breathless moan that collapses from his lips, and Alec gives them up freely, _gladly_. Magnus finally pins Alec beneath him and moves, grinding down deliciously, nice and slow until he picks up a steady rhythm that makes Alec squeeze his eyes shut and release a litany of curses into his ear. Alec catches his cadence and meets him where he is.

“Magnus,” he chokes, “Magnus, _please_ —” 

“Right here with you, love,” he breathes out, nuzzling into Alec’s neck, pressing a kiss right at his pulse point, “Come for me.”

They rut against each other, eyes fluttered close, fingers digging into hips, arching into each other like strings of bows stretched taut. They climb, and climb, and climb, and _finally_ Alec crests with Magnus’ name gritted breathlessly through his teeth. Magnus is close; Alec can feel it in the way his body is wound up against his. So he presses his mouth against Magnus’ ear, kissing the shell affectionately, and whispers under his breath. It takes only a couple more cants of the hip and Alec’s words in his ears— _you look so fucking beautiful against me_ —with a strangled _fuck, Alexander_ , Magnus comes.

Magnus collapses onto Alec, languid and boneless, and doesn’t move aside from carting breaths in and out of his lungs. Alec blinks up at the ceiling, bleary-eyed and on a special kind of high.

“ _Jesus_.” Alec mutters, and Magnus looks at him sleepily, “You sure know how to use your spirit stick.”

It’s like a slow-motion picture—Magnus' eyes twinkle in recognition, brows rising to his hairline, and then his entire face contorts into pure, unabashed laughter. It erupts from his lips like a symphonic melody, musical and uplifting, echoing into the small colosseum that is Magnus’ room. Alec siphons Magnus’ happiness for himself; it warms him thoroughly until it reaches the corners of his eyes.

“ _Please_ don’t bring Jesus into this.” Magnus wheezes. The spirit stick thing though? _That_ Magnus likes.

Alec squeezes his eyes shut, shaking in laughter as he clutches his aching sides. They lay there on Magnus’ bed, giggling like a bunch of idiots basking in a post-orgasmic high, not quite sure where to go from here. When they finally catch their breathes and they’re down to the occasional small giggle, the words come to Alec like it’s always been there, sitting on the tip of his tongue, patiently waiting. 

“I love you.” He whispers, _finally_ , and it hurts how much he means it.

Magnus smiles softly, slotting himself into Alec’s arms, like he has found his way back home.

“I love you too, Alexander.”

They don’t end up watching any more movies. 

“I gotta tell you something.” Alec murmurs, looking up from where his head is cradled in Magnus’ lap.

If there’s anything that’s constant in the universe, it’s the west building rooftop, Alec spread out on a pink blanket, and Magnus carding fingers through his hair. Everything else is variable.

Magnus quirks a smile. “Is it perhaps that NYU scholarship application you’ve started out for me?”

Alec blinks in surprise. “How’d you know?”

“Maybe keep your secrets somewhere less easy to find.” Magnus smirks slightly, finger twirling against the short curl he finds at the side of Alec’s head. 

Alec looks at him, guilt pulling the corners of his mouth downward. “Are you mad?”

“No.” Magnus says with a slight shrug, “Curious, maybe. Been meaning to ask, but I didn’t want to pry.”

“Why’d you do it?” Magnus asks, and it’s far from confrontational. He is asking for the sake of asking, like he truly wants to know Alec’s reasons. Alec lets himself steep in the safety of the space Magnus offers, physically stops himself from reverting back to his habit of digging into the bulk of his palm.

Magnus remembers the first time he saw Alec pin a thumb into his palm like that. It seemed inconspicuous and harmless at first, a reflexive habit as common as a wave of the hand to punctuate a point. But Magnus soon realizes that it’s something Alec does under stress, a physical articulation of his internal, well-hidden anxieties, one that usually manifests as a cold shoulder or simmering silence. When his distress hits a fever pitch, he clamps down onto his hand, as if to stubbornly say _stop that, be quiet_.

Alec has been better. He talks instead of tamping down his disquiet, he reaches out for a hand instead of digging deeply into his. Magnus has never felt prouder over someone dispelling a deeply entrenched habit.

“I know you want to go to Idris.” Alec says steadily, “I know it’s the perfect place for what you want and what you plan to do.”

Magnus smiles small, fingers by the shell of his ear. _Go on_. 

“And I’m _really_ happy for you, Magnus. I’m proud you know what you want.” He says, presses the words in Magnus’ hands as if to prepare him for the ones coming next, ones he’s not particularly proud of.

“But I just feel so damn sad.” He admits, shaking his head slightly. “I’m sad we’re going two separate directions. We lost so much time in the past and the thought that we’ll lose more in the future—” he breathes sharply, “I just hate it _so much_. I hate that I feel this way.”

“And I’m so fucking selfish.” Alec sighs deeply, brow furrowed into a frown, “For a moment I expected you to give up Idris to go to NYU, as if what you want matters less than what I wanted. God, what an asshole move, and I'm sorry.” 

He shakes his head. “I should’ve applied to Idris instead.”

“You were right not to.” Magnus says gently, “There’s no medicine program in Idris. You wouldn’t be doing what you wanted, and you wouldn’t have been happy.”

Alec murmurs, “I would be happy with you, though.”

“I know, Alexander.” Magnus smiles, “But you’re meant to do so many great things. You are _so intelligent_. I wonder sometimes where you’ll end up. What do you like more, top cardiac surgeon in the country, or the country’s chief medical officer?”

Alec smiles a little. “I just want to be a good doctor.” He mulls a thought. “Though the first one sounds pretty good.”

Magnus chuckles. “I’m proud you know what you want, and I’m proud you got a scholarship to one of the best schools that offers that program.”

“Stop, I haven’t gotten it for sure yet.” Alec whines, and Magnus shakes his head stubbornly.

“No. You’ll get it.” Magnus grins, “And I’m not saying it’s not going be tough living in two different cities. It’s going to be shitty sometimes, and we might have to make do with what we have—but whether it’s Alicante or New York City, Idris or NYU, I’m not going anywhere.”

“We’re not going anywhere.” Magnus says, smiling, “Okay?”

Alec smiles small, eyes softly bearing onto Magnus', and there he finds only a resounding promise. He reaches out, fingers pressing against the nape of Magnus' neck, and tugs him down onto a gentle kiss. He nods, because this is the constant thing in the universe. The two of them, and that they love each other, and that no matter what, they're going to try. Everything else are confusing, unpredictable variables, but that one constant is the singular point that they can always come back to.

So, Alec decides to trust the one person he knows he could.

“Okay.”

March in New York is nippy, and there’s little sun in the sky when Magnus drives up to school for a squad meeting. 

It’s unusual to not have Alec sitting next to him to a drive to Idris High, but it’s a weekend, and he tends to sleep in on a Saturday. Magnus had already been merciless with cutting his weekend slumber short during the earlier months of their relationship. If there’s something he’d learned after almost seven months of being with Alec, it’s to wake him up gently, slowly, and as late as you can manage it. And Magnus has really, _really_ mastered the art. He discovered mid-year Alec’s favorite: a kiss to the neck, then five minutes of lazily making out. Though, Magnus has long caught on with his ulterior motives: one too many times, he had been greeted by minty breaths and barely withheld giggles. 

Magnus laughs to himself as he takes a right into Bristol. It’s been almost a year of exactly that, of stupidly chuckling under his breath and being blanketed by warm sunlight. He’s so stupidly in love with Alec he’d willingly lose common sense. 

And for a fair bit there, he actually lost it. They’re not looked upon so favorably by the universe to not have their own fair share of arguments and full-on fights. They’ve argued, _truly_ argued both about things that matter and things that don’t, and it’s as difficult and exhausting as one would expect fighting with someone you love would be. As much as Alec tries, he can be unwaveringly stubborn, and as much as Magnus tries, he can be irrationally defensive. And down to the very core, despite their intelligence and the maturity they’re trying to emulate, they’re still _kids_. Dumb, unreasonable kids swayed easily by emotion. 

They make up, though. Once the dust has settled and they can see clearly again, the first thing they seek is each other. They find each other huddled despondently in their own homes, sitting cross-legged in front of their neighboring lockers, looking over the field they both occupy after school. And everytime, they make it work, whether it be through guilty _I’m sorry_ ’s or determined _let’s talk_ ’s. Sometimes words don’t cut it and atonement comes in the form of arms quietly winding around waists. They make it work, and they try to learn, and they tuck each argument deep within their chests to remind themselves why they love each other in the first place.

Magnus parks his car close to the building entrance, and already he spots his Izzy’s vehicle. He makes his way to the school building, through the doors, and steers himself towards the hallways he has walked through for as long as he’s been in Alicante. 

In three months, they’re done. 

Yanked out of the comfortable familiarity and into the constant, never-ending broil of being an adult. Magnus and Alec have talked about this, a lot. It’s exhausting and sometimes depressing, but they need to. And there’s still a lot they need to figure out, but Magnus wants to spend each day of each remaining month knowing that despite the inevitable sadness, they’ve chosen to be happy. That’s really all that they can do.

Magnus raises a brow as he spots Alec standing by their lockers like he’s been there a while, and he’s smiling at him like he’s finally pulled the rug under him for once in his life. The potent brightness on his face only makes his curiosity rise even more.

“You should still be asleep.” Magnus says suspiciously as he draws closer, and Alec pushes himself off his leaned position against his locker. 

Alec shrugs, smile unchanging. “I thought you wanted me an early riser?”

“I dunno,” Magnus smirks teasingly, “I’m getting real tired of kissing you awake every morning.”

“Oh, really?” Alec asks, eye squinting the way he always does, and Magnus is powerless at the sight of it, “That much of a chore?”

He shakes his head, smiling. “Never.”

“Look, I have a meeting with the squad in five,” He continues apologetically, “Wait for me? We can have breakfast.”

“Yeah, I’d love to,” Alec says, and then motions behind him, “But your team’s right there.”

Magnus turns curiously—they’re supposed to be meeting in their usual spot—but he does see them there, and they’re gathered behind a giant banner that stretches from one wall to the other. They hold it up, barely covering their excited grins, and Magnus knows the general idea before he even reads the words.

The words, however, is in a league of its own.

_Numbers may not be your strong suit, but YOU would look damn good in a suit. Prom?_

He whips back to Alec who’s trying hard not to laugh, knowing exactly how awful the pun is and knowing _exactly_ how it’s making literature and linguistics master Magnus feel. Magnus thanks the lord that he doesn’t have to pretend to be so emotionally touched by the words and releases his own bit-back laughter from behind his teeth. They’re laughing so hard they’ve quite literally crumpled to the floor, and Magnus is crying just much as Alec is wheezing.

“I hate you _so much_.” Magnus whines with an exhale.

Alec breathes out the last of his laughter, the back of his hand passing across his eyes. “I came up with so much more,” he almost giggles, “ _I taught you Physics, should I teach you Chemistry too? The only score I’m interested in is to score a date with you. Can you back-tuck your_ —” 

Magnus groan-laughs, pained, attempting to crawl closer to plant a hand over Alec’s mouth. “No more, please!”

“Five more? Okay, _are you a pyramid_ —” 

“No, Alexander!”

“ _Because your base is_ —” 

“Oh my god, just give us an answer!” Izzy just about screams from behind the banner.

“Okay, okay!” Alec yells back, another bout of laughter washing over him, until he finally looks back at Magnus.

They’re sitting on the floor, flushed in the face after all that tumultuous laughter, and some how it’s perfect. 

“I don’t know how to slow dance, and I’m going to step on your shoes a lot.” Alec says, grinning, “But Magnus Bane, will you be my date?”

That was perfect. Magnus would’ve taken that over any promposal pun in Alec’s long list of promposal puns. 

“Yes, Alexander Gideon Lightwood, I will be your date,” Magnus says, eyes dancing, “As long as you never again use puns in grand gestures of affection.”

Alec laughs, happy up to the eyes. “Okay.”

Magnus scoots towards Alec and cheekily gives him the kiss he would’ve received if he woke him up this morning. There’s a wall of squealing cheerleaders behind them and they’re sitting on the dirty floor of a school hallway, but Magnus is happy. Immeasurably happy. 

There’s a lot to worry about in the future.

But for now, this is all that matters.


	10. Alec Lightwood Loves Magnus Bane Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus slots Alec against him, and Alec whiningly nuzzles deep into his neck. “This is some form of self-flagellation if I’ve ever seen one.”
> 
> “Positive thinking is so fucking hard.” Alec mumbles from where he’s pressed against his side, “I’ve decided to lean into the sadness.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so long I had to split it in two! Oh the tears ; n ; I miss them already. I don't think I've been this attatched to any iteration of Malec I've written in the past ; n ; They're my babies ; n ; Anyways, I've commissioned the wonderful artist @anushbanush to draw something special for [redacted]'s last chapter. Find it at the end of chapter 10 part 2, but for her other works click [here](https://anushbanush.tumblr.com/). Again, thank you Jihane (@J_LightwoodBane) for the French translations!
> 
> I'm @nhixxie on twitter, and follow #nhixxiefic if you're into the livetweeting thing!
> 
> Hope you enjoy part 1 of chapter 10!

Magnus had barely parked his car when Alec sprints down their driveway, letter in hand.

“Okay—” Alec stammers breathlessly as he skids to a stop so abruptly it makes Magnus jump. He holds the envelope out, eyes flicking about, restless. “I haven’t opened it, I need you to do it for me, right now, please Magnus—” 

“Easy.” Magnus says soothingly, hand against the underside of Alec’s arm, “Why me? Don’t you want to see it with your own eyes?”

Alec looks at him, alarmed. “And see my own failure? God no.”

Magnus raises a brow at him. “So if you botch a surgery would you just close your eyes?”

“You think I’ll botch a surgery?” Alec asks faintly, and Magnus has to hurriedly press his palms against Alec’s cheeks— _no, no, no, wrong analogy, my bad, come back_ —pulling him out of a potential spiral and anchoring him back to reality. 

“Alexander.” Magnus says, “Just open the letter. Just do that one thing. Everything else can follow.”

“Okay.” He murmurs through squished cheeks, “Can you put my face back to normal?”

Magnus smirks at him teasingly. “I don’t know, you look cute like this.”

Alec rolls his eyes because _what a lie, I look cute all the time_. “Fine. If I cry, it’s your fault.”

Magnus chuckles. “I’ll take it.”

Alec takes a shaky, sharp breath in, one that sounds like it would hurt passing through his throat. He peels the corner edge of the envelope, hooks a finger in, and rips through the seal nervously. Magnus simply smiles as he watches Alec slide the folded letter out of the envelope, the NYU logo already visible.

Alec unfolds it, the bump of his throat bobbing up and down in trepidation, crinkling paper the only sound between them. 

Alec starts to read under his breath, brow furrowed. “ _Dear Mr. Alec Lightwood the New York University’s Grossman School of Medicine Scholarship Committee would like to congratulate you forbeingtherecipientof_ —” 

Magnus releases a scream of triumph that is met by Alec’s one continuous shout of victory and they’re jumping now, screeching loudly into the sky like they’ve lost their damn minds. Alec is about to catch Magnus by the waist when his face lights up in remembrance. He hurriedly turns on his heels and throws his trunk open, scrambling around in search of something.

“What are you doing?” Alec asks, confused, until Magnus fishes out a hoodie with the block letters NYU stitched at the front. 

Magnus grins. “I bought it the day you sent your application in.”

Alec feels the telltale ache at the soft palette of his mouth, his throat squeezed tight like it’s holding something back. 

“Here,” Magnus says excitedly, “Put it on!”

Magnus bunches the hoodie up and slips it past Alec’s head, chuckles slightly as his hair comes out a bird’s nest. Alec slips his arms through, and Magnus pulls the rest down until the hem reaches his hips. He smiles softly, tries to arrange Alec’s hair back with his fingers so it can have some semblance of neatness. Magnus’ smile falters from his lips when he sees lines of sorrow draw itself across Alec’s face. He knows full well the hand that causes it. 

“C’mere,” Magnus says quietly, and like an ingrained habit, he slips into the circle of Alec’s arms. 

_You’re going to NYU_ , Magnus presses the words against Alec’s shoulder, more a realization for himself than for Alec because Alec is already there, silently wading through what the words mean for the both of them. The triumphant elation the achievement brings is coiled with a dull, unforgiving heartache. What was simply a thought a month ago, one that they could easily hide out of sight is now staring them in the face, a solid, immovable reality. Magnus feels Alec reach back and pull the hoodie over his head, covers his face as if to hide behind it. He holds Magnus closer against him. 

_It’s okay_ , Magnus breathes out shakily, arms encircled around Alec’s neck, listening as heavy breathing twist into the sobs he stubbornly strangles into quietness. He gulps through an aching, tightly-wound throat, and he holds onto Magnus like he could dispel from his arms if he lets go.

 _I don’t want to leave you_ , Alec weeps.

Magnus blinks back the glassiness in his eyes, kisses the side of Alec’s head. 

_I know, Alexander._

They stand there for a while, holding each other.

_I know._

They go for a drive.

Alec’s eyes never stray. He keeps them on Magnus, watching as the wind picks up his hair and tosses it across his eyes, bending short black locks to its will. His gaze flutters about, to the outward sweep of his eye lashes, down to the fine line of his nose, to lips that glisten with chap stick. Alec’s eyes are reddened and tired, under eyes heavy, but the sight Magnus makes beside him—wind-beaten and drenched in sunlight—it alleviates. 

It’s always been like this. Alec has looked at Magnus so many times since that first drive to school, and everytime it’s like he’s laid eyes on a fresh, untouched view. Alec doesn’t know which he wants more—to never tire of the sight of him, or to be so used to it that he feels like home. 

Magnus looks at him momentarily, the corner of his mouth quirking. Alec, as he always does, simply gazes back, unapologetic, utterly enamoured.

“You look beautiful.” He says softly. 

Magnus smiles as warmly as the sunlight that bathes him. 

“You too.”

Alec reaches out, fingers splayed softly like an open fan. He tangles fingers through locks combed by the wind, tousling lovingly by the shell of his ear. He hopes Magnus’ breath catches in his lungs just like the way his did their first drive to school. He hopes the paths his fingers pave through Magnus’ hair stays within his nerves forever, like a phantom limb he’ll never forget the feeling of. He hopes every touch he deposits onto Magnus never leaves. 

Alec hopes that everytime the sun embraces Magnus with warmth, and the wind cards through his hair, he thinks of Alec a city away, wishing it’s him touching Magnus instead. 

Alec hopes Magnus remembers, always, how somebody far away loves him _so very much._

On a stop light, Magnus reaches for the hand twined within his hair and threads his fingers through. He keeps his eyes to the road, absently pressing his mouth against the back of Alec’s hand, before tucking it against his chest like well-guarded treasure. 

They drive on.

“Do you hate yourself?” Magnus asks as he steps into Alec’s room.

At the sound of Magnus’ voice, Alec raises a disheveled head from where its nuzzled into his pillow. High School Musical 3: Senior Year plays on his television screen, and the Wild Cats just won their championship game against the West High Knights. His expression is the very definition of _oh my god you’re here_ , and Magnus let’s himself be pulled into bed by the arm. He slots Alec against him, and Alec whiningly nuzzles deep into his neck.

“This is some form of self-flagellation if I’ve ever seen one.” Magnus comments.

“Positive thinking is so fucking hard.” Alec mumbles from where he’s pressed against his side, “I’ve decided to lean into the sadness.”

Magnus looks at him pointedly. “Is this why you haven’t stepped out in the sun for the last two days?”

“Is Izzy feeding you intel?” Alec asks, “Because that’s a lie. I stepped out into the sun yesterday. I laid on the grass face down for an hour.”

Magnus shakes his head. “Face up or it doesn’t count.”

Alec sighs. “That’s it, we need to break up.” He lets a few seconds elapse before raising his head to look Magnus straight in the eye. “Also that was a joke. I need to know you understand that I was completely joking.”

“I got it.” Magnus says fondly before taking a tentative sniff off the top of his head. “Tell me you’ve showered.”

“I’ve showered.” Alec mumbles again, “Two days ago.”

“Oh god,” Magnus groans, not knowing whether to be horrified or just laugh, “Alexander, what the hell?”

“You judging me will literally be the last straw.” Alec moans as he curls deeper into himself, forlorn, “I will fully crumble into an emotional break down. Please handle your fragile boyfriend gently.”

“You’re _so dramatic_.” Magnus says, “That’s supposed to be my schtick and even you are exceeding my expectations right now.”

Alec stubbornly holds Magnus tighter. “At this point we’ve well established you and I are pretty much one person.”

Magnus wrinkles his nose. “I wouldn’t not shower for two days.”

Alec groans like he’s in pain. “ _Jesus_ , gently, handle gently! Not break a table over my face!”

Magnus laughs. “Okay, okay, my bad.”

Gabriela Montez and Troy Bolton sing their sappy song in the tree house overlooking their championship after party. Alec whimpers like a wounded puppy at the sound of _I’m looking at you and my heart loves the view_ , and Magnus scratches his cheek with the pads of his fingers, soothing. Alec is a sucker for good one-liners. 

“So, are you saying you’re Troy and I’m Gabriela?” Magnus asks.

Alec sighs. “I might be Gabriela. I’m the one going to NYU on a scholarship like a nerd.” He peers up at Magnus, a calculation in his mind. “It’s not too late for you to grow your hair out like Zac Efron, you know.”

Alec looks slightly lost in thought. “Mmm, Zac Efron.”

Magnus raises a brow. “Well, this is the first time I’ve ever heard of this. Should I be jealous?”

“I would _love_ that.” Alec says seriously, “You’re rarely jealous and it’s honestly so worrying.”

Magnus laughs aloud. “The last time that happened, we barrelled into a shit storm that ended up with me thinking you liked Sebastian Verlac, and you thinking I liked Dot Rollins.”

Alec snorts at the memory. It feels like something so distant, a point in time many years back, where Magnus could only distantly smile at Alec, and Alec couldn’t yet find the courage to enfold Magnus against him like he’s doing so now. It’s strange to think about.

“Can you imagine what would’ve happened if we didn’t figure our shit out?” Alec murmurs. “I would still be hopelessly staring at you from across the football field while you would be flirting with your girlfriend or boyfriend.”

Magnus quirks a corner of his lip. “Bold of you to assume I would be dating someone who’s not you.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m the only person who’s worth dating.” Alec points out. 

Magnus laughs softly, shaking his head. “Oh, Alexander.” He murmurs, “It’s you or nothing.” 

It’s an unconscious echo of something Alec has said before, and it lodges his heart in his throat. Troy and Gabriela starts waltzing on the rooftop of their school building, and Magnus offhandedly comments that he could probably waltz better than both characters combined. _So Magnus knows how to waltz_ , Alec notes, and tucks the information in the corner of his brain for safekeeping.

“Look, I’m level-headed and I trust you.” Magnus smiles, “Isn’t that a good thing? Specially if we’re going to make this long-distance thing work?”

Alec flips to his side, mouth pressing lightly against Magnus’ shoulder. “I suppose we need that.” He says, “But I just want to see you go absolutely feral, just once.”

“So you’re saying I should trust you less?” Magnus asks, amused. 

Alec looks at him flatly. “I’m saying you being jealous turns me on.”

Magnus bursts into laughter, head flung back onto Alec’s headboard, hand to his belly. There was a time Alec Lightwood would’ve reddened like a second degree burn victim upon the suggestion of anything remotely close to a dick joke. Nowadays, Magnus could most probably say the dirtiest, filthiest thing in the whole of the known universe, and Alec probably wouldn’t even flinch. _Jesus christ_ , Magnus thinks, _I’ve created a monster._

He’s damn proud of it.

“This mouth isn’t going anywhere near your dick until you jump in that shower.” Magnus says pointedly.

Troy and Chad execute a complicated dance number in a junkyard that looks suspiciously clean for what it’s supposed to be, and Alec has never moved to get to the shower so fast in his life. 

Alec says, disdained, “I don’t know about this.”

Lydia places her hands before her placatingly. “Relax.” She says, “We’ve only been at it for half an hour.”

“And I stepped on your toes three times already.” Alec whines, adding sheepishly, “Sorry. Again.”

“Stop apologizing!” She laughs, “I’m fine. How about a quick break? Let’s reset.”

Alec nods in agreement. “Do you want something to drink?” he asks as he makes his way to the sliding door separating their backyard from the kitchen.

“Water’s fine.” Lydia answers as she plops herself onto the ground. 

Lydia crosses her outstretched legs and props her palms onto the patch of grass behind her. When Alec comes back, he settles on the spot to her right, handing her a glass while he sips from his own. 

“How do you know how to dance like this, by the way?” Alec asks after a gulp of water.

“Debutante training.” Lydia says with a roll of her eyes, to which Alec turns to her, bug-eyed.

“ _Seriously?_ ” he almost chokes out.

“Did it to appease the mother,” she laughs again, “But never got the real deal, thank god.”

“Lyds, why?” Alec mourns, “I would’ve given anything to see you in a gigantic ball gown. _Anything_.”

“I would rather set myself on fire.” Lydia says, “I don’t need to be _ushered into society_.”

The words make Alec snicker under his breath. Lydia will never be ushered into society—more likely, she will shoulder her way into it with no remorse, taking no shit as she does. Alec pities whoever dawdles in her path, and her path is chemical engineering at Columbia, somewhat parallel to his. They’ve started to look into places they can split between them, one that is hopefully at the midpoint of their schools, and one that has basic functionalities and a rent that won’t suck their savings dry. It hasn’t been easy, Alec admits. But it’s calming to know he’s venturing off into the city with someone he trusts, who also unconditionally trusts him. 

Between the two of them, Lydia will adjust into uni life easier. It’s just who she is. 

“How do you do it?” Alec asks, softly impressed, “Be so sure of yourself?”

Lydia looks back at him, mildly surprised. “Who says I’m sure?”

Alec rolls his eyes fondly. “Please. There’s no shit you can’t handle.”

She presses her lips together, brows bumped up— _hm, you’re not wrong_. “That may be true,” she says, “But I’m not sure, Alec. I’m as clueless about the future as everyone else.”

“Sounds fake.” Alec says dubiously, “But in the off chance you’re not lying, I’ve got to say you hide it pretty well.” 

“Yeah, I do.” Lydia admits with a small smile, “Fake it ‘til you make it. Something you’ll have to learn soon, by the way. The nurses will eat you alive if you start med school like a teeny rabbit nosing around timidly.”

Alec groans. “Oh my god, I’m so scared of the nurses, Lyds.” He says hollowly, “Everytime I talk to Cat I feel like I need to bow to her in deference.” 

Lydia bursts into laughter, eyes pinched. “Oh, god, don’t do that! She’s going to think you’re a weirdo!”

“I think she already does.” Alec says morosely.

Lydia waves a hand nonchalantly. “Magnus is putting in a good word for you, I’m sure.”

“I worry about him.” Alec says out of the blue, softly.

When she asks her next question, she does so tentatively. “Is it about the separate colleges thing?”

As Alec usually does when the topic arises, he feels lead weigh down his heart. He exhales, cheeks puffing as he does. “Yeah.”

“He’s a good actor, you know.” Alec comments, smiling slightly, “He can smile his way out of a tragedy. And you’d believe it too, if you didn’t know the truth.” 

“It must be awful for the heart,” he says under his breath, eyes blearily distant, “To not let it feel the way it’s meant to feel.”

He should know, Alec thinks. He’s abused his own to the point of silence for most of his life. It’s a miracle it even sits in his ribcage, beating peacefully between the space of his two lungs. 

“You should tell him that.” Lydia answers gently. 

Alec nods. 

“I should.”

Alec glares at his phone screen, head pressed stubbornly into his pillow.

 _Why are we doing this again?_ He types.

Three little bubbles appear at the bottom of the screen, indicative of Magnus in the process of texting back. Alec, despite the sleep in his eyes, squints accusingly at it. It’s going to be him staring at this cursed image for a long time, and _dammit_ if it takes three minutes for Magnus to formulate a response, it better be the length of short novel. 

_Practice,_ he replies. 

Alec almost loses his goddamn mind. He pounds his thumbs onto the screen so hard he actually hears the sound of his typing.

_YOU’RE DOING THIS ON PURPOSE_

Alec could already hear Magnus laugh. If he was here like he should be, he’d feel that chuckle right against his ear, warm and comfortable. Instead, Alec is engaged in a staring match with the screen of his phone, and he’s sorely losing.

 _I’m not_ , he replies, a bit sooner now thank god, _you’re just mad I’m not there on a Saturday_.

Alec kicks his legs out in frustration, flipping on his back. _OF COURSE I’M MAD I SHOULD BE GETTING KISSED AWAKE RIGHT NOW_

Admittedly, Alec is not handling this first foray into spending time apart. It’s the intent behind it, he thinks. They’ve gone weeks without really seeing each other by way of academic responsibilities and intensive football practices, but knowing they’re doing this to get used to not seeing each other makes him unbearably sad. If this was a week ago, Alec would’ve cried. Now, his sadness has chosen to express itself into a really pouty sort of annoyance, which is maybe a bit of a step up. 

_Crinkles, this is the whole point of this exercise_ , Magnus texts back, and Alec sourly knows he would be looking all fond and gentle like he usually does when he uses the nickname, _we need to get used to this._

Alec rolls his eyes, annoyed but dejected. Magnus, as always, has a very valid point. 

_Fine_ , he replies.

Three bubbles. _I miss you_.

Alec breathes out, smiling small. _I miss you too_. He imagines himself in his small dorm room, staring at a suspicious stain on the ceiling, alone. _Wish you were here._

Alec conjures the feeling of despondence too easy for comfort. _Wish I could kiss you._

Three bubbles. Bubbles. Bubbles—

_Where?_

It’s a punch to the gut, one that dispels despondence and instead makes his breath stutter, stumbling off the ledge of his bottom lip. He feels thickness in his throat that wasn’t there a second ago, and he visibly gulps it down with much effort. Alec throws a look at his door; closed, locked, and bolted shut (a feature he’s since installed after the first time he and Magnus had sex, or a semblance of it). He hitches himself up against the headboard, sitting up slightly. He takes a steadying breath, slightly shaky thumbs hovering over his screen.

 _Your eyes first_ , he types, almost feels stupid, but doing so would mean Magnus would feel stupid, which Alec can never let happen. _Corner of your lips_

_Like our first time?_

Alec can’t breathe, reminds himself to do so—in, out. _Yes. Like our first time_

_And second_

_And third_

Bubbles. _Stop teasing_. And then what Alec would imagine is a choked _please._

Alec softly whines at the thought, heaviness pooling deep within his gut. He squeezes his eyes shut as he feels himself ache within his boxers, but he ignores his own neediness in favor of taking care of Magnus’. 

_I kiss your mouth, and then your neck. Your back is warm and flushed when I slip my hands under your shirt. I skate my fingers across your skin, and it spells my name._

_Alexander_ , Magnus says so vividly in his ears, so much so that he feels his breath fan against the shell of it. It picks up the beating of his heart, electrifies the nerves on his skin. Alec breathes, barely, as he types.

_Tell me you’re touching yourself_

Alec closes his eyes and presses his forehead against Magnus’, lips hovered over lips, catching every hitched breath and stuttered moans that trip out of Magnus’ mouth. Magnus squeezes his eyes shut, leaning into the hand that cradles his jaw.

 _I’m touching myself_ , he groans softly, _I need to hear your voice_

Alec scrambles to put Magnus into speed dial. It rings momentarily until it doesn’t, the shrillness of it replaced by the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Alexander,” Alec hears from the other line, raspy and heavy with want, intertwined with short bursts of air.

“You sound beautiful,” he mutters needily, palming his own cock through his underwear, “Magnus, you’re so fucking beautiful. There’s nothing more breathtaking than the sight of you fucking into my hand.”

A whimpering moan. “ _Fuck_ —”

“Good?”

“ _Yes_ ,” He hisses achingly, “ _How about you? What can I do_ —”

It makes Alec smile tenderly. “Come for me. That’s all I need.”

Magnus trips on his words again, air hitching in his throat, wrapped around a moaned iteration of Alec’s name from his tongue. It’s dizzying, and it tilts Alec on his axis. 

“Come on, love.”

“ _Alexander, I’m close_ —”

Alec closes his eyes, noses into Magnus’ neck, presses a kiss to the pulse point that lies there, biting gently. Magnus writhes under him, heat licking up the line of his spine, every fiber of muscle in his body wound tight as his fingers claws softly into the curls of Alec’s hair.

“Come for me, Magnus.” Alec says softly, breath fanning against his skin.

With a strangled groan, Magnus comes, the intensity of it a riptide knocking him off his feet and pulling him into the awaiting ocean. His breaths push and pull, gritty against the phone, and Alec could see him soft and languid against his own bed. He wants to be there, carding fingers through Magnus’ hair, watching his eyes blink blearily back at him.

Alec combs through what he feels, of having actual phone sex with his boyfriend, and finds he doesn’t feel embarrassed by it all. He is oddly content, like he’s told Magnus a story, tucked him into gently bed, and kissed him goodnight. It’s like he’s taken care of something precious to him. 

Magnus carts air into his lungs on the other line, slowly easing, until he finally speaks. “This might work.” He says, and he’s a beat from laughter, Alec knows. 

Alec doesn’t care. He fully laughs, teasing. “You don’t say.”

Magnus giggles, the sound almost as faraway as the distance they’re soon going to have to battle with. Alec’s screen is warm against his cheek.

“Was—” Alec trips slightly, a bit nervous, “Was I any good?”

He could hear Magnus smile. “Alexander.” he murmurs, “You were _wonderful_.”

Alec feels the telltale warmth of a blush on his cheeks as he smiles. He murmurs, “Thanks.”

He hears rustling from the other line, like Magnus is shifting his head against his pillow. “Didn’t know you were such a poet.”

Alec leans his head back against the back of his bed, chuckling back. “You have an awful habit of bringing it out of me.”

There’s a gentle pause over the other line. 

“I love you.” Alec says softly; _lean on me_.

He could hear Magnus smile. “I love you too.”

“Well then,” he says, and Alec can hear the smirk on his mouth, “Let’s see what I can do for you.”

“Well, rest in peace to that potential banger of an outfit.” Magnus mourns as his fingers work up the row of buttons on his shirt, “You were great the whole minute you existed.”

Cat raises her fake glass. “To?”

“Brick Valentino.” Magnus answers, and Cat laughs.

“You had that male stripper name at the ready. How long have you been holding on to that?” she says in disbelief, “Should I be worried?”

Magnus snickers, finally snapping his last button shut. “A guy needs a back up plan if this college thing doesn’t pan out.”

Cat snorts. “As if. Anyways,” she raises her glass again, “To Brick Valentino. You had to go, or else Alec would’ve dropped dead at the mere sight of you.”

“Gotta protect him.” She says, placing a hand to her heart, soft at the thought. “Our delicate little bunny.”

Magnus giggles, raising his own nonexistent glass, “Cheers.”

They tip their imaginary shots into their mouth, and Tiffany Candance twinkles in all of her sequined glory from where she’s hung on the wall, immortalized. 

Magnus remembers the first time Alec met Cat, and it brings him to laughter every damn time. At the sound of Cat throwing the front door open one early morning, Alec rolled off Magnus’ bed, a panicked, half-asleep, sputtering mess, and hid under his desk in fear of being found. _What are you doing?!_ Magnus almost cried in absolute laughter, _she knows you’re here, I told her already!_ Alec, ruddy-cheeked and indignant, crawled out of his hiding spot in a huff— _you didn’t tell me!_ Magnus whines as he wipes tears from his eyes, _what are you, my secret mistress?!_ Alec throws himself back onto the bed, grumbling the entire way back. Catarina couldn’t and wouldn't stop making fun of him the entire day upon hearing the story.

“Okay, I gotta run,” Cat says hurriedly, throwing her work bag onto one shoulder, “You look gorgeous and have fun at prom, my little gremlin! Tell Alec I said hello!”

Catarina’s halfway through the door when Magnus catches her with a call of the name. She whips her head back, hand to the doorknob. She looks at him questioningly, _what is it?_

“Can you just—” Magnus stumbles over his words, a nervous breath interrupting his request, “Can you take your time getting home tomorrow morning? Please?”

Catarina’s eyes on him are as gentle as an embrace, and this Magnus knows, because she also wraps an arm around him, squeezing affectionately.

“Okay.” She says as she lets go, “Just remember what we talked about.”

Magnus nods, smiling slightly. “Thanks. I will.”

“Drive safe!”

Catarina jogs to her car and tosses her belongings into the passenger seat, and it doesn’t take long until she pulls out of her parking spot and drives away. Magnus gives himself a moment to exhale before taking out his phone and swiping it open. He smiles helplessly at the wallpaper like he always does, because it’s Alec, grinning drunkenly at him with an explosion of heart emojis along the crown of his head. Pink-cheeked, crinkle-eyed. 

Everytime Magnus thinks he couldn’t love Alec more than he already does, something defies his expectations. He wonders if it will ever die down, this constant state of wondrous surprise. One day, it most likely will, and they will look back at this point in their distant past with either fondness or agony. The thought of it is sobering, like a drop of reality so strong it thoroughly disturbs Magnus' still surface. 

He types, _leaving the house now, see you in fifteen?_ He’s buckling up when he receives Alec’s reply: _see you soon, I love you_

Magnus shakes himself loose, tries not to let the ache in his chest rise. He puffs his cheeks out again in an exhale that is rooted deep within his lungs. _Hold it_ , he reminds himself, _for Alec_. His car roars to life under the palm of his hands.

He pulls out of his spot and drives on. 

Maryse scrambles for her work shoes, phone pinned between her shoulder and cheek.

“Greg come on, thirty minutes—” she pauses, grunts as she slips her shoes on, “I just need to snap a picture of my son and his boyfriend.”

Alec looks horrified as he tries to peer down the staircase. His phone had just lit up, _leaving the house now, see you in fifteen_ on the screen, and he had just typed out a quick reply.

“God, what is she doing?”

“Stop moving.” Izzy complains, giving the side of his hair a couple of passes with her fingers. He smells like styling wax and his hair has never risen so far off his head than it currently is now.

“It’s his first and last prom Greg!” Maryse exclaims, “Have some sympathy for a single mother!” 

Alec yells from the second floor, bamboozled. “Mom, can you not?!”

Maryse raises a finger from the bottom of the staircase. “Alexander Gideon Lightwood, don’t you sass me.”

Alec is about to say something in his defense when Izzy grunts irately again, pulling him back by the shoulder. 

“I’m not done with your hair.” she protests, and Alec tries to swat her hand away.

“When will you ever be?” he demands back, and instead of his hair, she now tugs at the sleeves of his white button up. “ _Izzy_ —” 

“ _Alec_ ,” she presses, buttoning a cuff that has been left open. She picks at the tuck of his shirt, loosening it slightly.

“ _Greg_ ,” Maryse hisses from below and Alec officially loses it.

“Izzy, for the love—of—god,” he grits out choppily, pupils blown. His hands are in the air, and if somebody touches him in anyway in the next few seconds, he’ll implode. “Just—let me breathe. Please.”

Izzy takes a chance and picks at the collar on the nape of Alec’s neck before jumping back, mimicking his position.

Alec lets air blow out of his mouth, brow furrowed. “Shit, why am I so stressed out?” he exhales, planting both palms on the railing of their staircase. His mouth is so dry, and he can’t even gulp away the thickness in his throat. 

“ _Christ_ , I’m starting to sweat..”

Izzy takes his hand and plops him back to his bed. She turns the dial to full blast on the air conditioning, sits down right beside him, and uses a folder to fan him in the meantime. 

“Relax.” Izzy says, and Alec looks at her, irked.

“ _I’m trying_.” He grits out, dabbing the light sheen of perspiration from his forehead. 

“You’re overthinking, and it’s so loud.” Izzy says.

Alec throws his head back, eyes tersely blinking up at the ceiling.

“Spill it or risk being a nervous wreck.” Izzy warns, fanning stronger.

Alec presses his mouth into a thin line, swiping the sweat from across his upper lip. “I don’t know, what if he doesn’t like that I changed my hair?” he mutters, “Or my suit?” 

“ _Please_ don’t tell me you actually think I believe this.” Izzy says flatly, cutting him short, “If you’re going to lie, lie better.”

What a perceptive little shit his little sister is. A bit frightening, to be honest. Alec passes his fingers over his mouth, a nervous tick he hasn’t done in a long while. With Magnus he doesn’t need to be nervous, not when he is Alec’s gentle ocean waves, lapping soothingly at his ankles. The blaring lighthouse of his mind, however, fills whatever noise is lacking. He gives his sister a momentary glance. 

“We might do it.” Alec finally mumbles, “All the way.” 

Izzy stops her obsessive fanning, her hands faltering to her lap. She feels the weigh of his words in the well of one palm, and in the other she tests the weight of hers. 

“Don’t you want to?” she asks.

“Course I do. Completely.” He says under his breath, tone rough, “I just want it to be right.”

He flexes his hand, thumb gently rubbing against the side of his index finger.

“I don’t want it to be some shitty, prom night fuck that lasts for all of ten seconds.” He mutters tensely, “I want to take care of him. I want it to matter.”

“Well, there’s the problem.” Izzy says flatly, “You’ve let your brain hijack you again.”

Alec throws her an irate glance. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Alec, listen to yourself.” Izzy presses, like the answer is so plain for everyone to see, “Of course it’s going to matter. Anything between you and Magnus will never be some shitty, prom night fuck. Do you really think that’s even a possibility?”

It’s frustrating how immediate the realization comes. Listening to the words come out of somebody else’s mouth, reframed just the slightest bit, makes Alec feel like a complete idiot. Izzy’s right, as she usually is with these kinds of things. A part of him thoroughly hates it.

Alec frowns. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

“Stop.” Izzy says, “You’ve come a long way. This isn’t nearly as stupid as thinking Magnus was in love with Dot.”

The thought makes Alec crumple, and Izzy laughs. “Oh, god,” he moans, “Don’t bring that up again.”

They let the smooth, mechanical sound of the air conditioner hum around them.

Izzy settles into a small smile. “You two are soulmates. You kiss and the entire universe folds.”

She sighs, leaning her head against Alec’s shoulder and winds a hand around his arm. Alec remembers a moment akin to this—that early morning of the first day of senior year, where Izzy clambered onto his bed and sat with him as he imagined a possibility of a life with the kind of freedom he’d never let himself consider before. 

It feels like a lifetime ago, one he couldn’t bear think of, because it lacked Magnus’ presence so starkly. 

“I know you’re sad about the future.” Izzy says, “And it’s okay to be.”

Alec blinks up at the ceiling. “I’m tired of being sad.”

“It must be hard.”

“We've barely begun.” Alec sighs, “How can something that has barely begun be already so damn hard?” 

Izzy presses her lips together, shoulders shrugging ever so slightly. “When people say they’re afraid of heights, they’re not afraid of the cliff.” She says, “They’re afraid of the horror that is standing at the edge of it. Not knowing whether to back away or take the jump.” 

“The wait is always scarier than the dive, Alec.” Izzy says softly, “And for the last few months, you and Magnus have been standing at a cliff’s edge.”

“I wish I can say it’s going to be easy.” With a small sigh she adjusts her head against his padded shoulder, arm tightening around his consolingly. “But there’s going to be easy parts to this, and there will be hard parts. You take them both, or you don’t take them at all.”

When Alec speaks, he sounds so far away. “I’d take it all.”

Crescent moon eyes and warm smiles come to mind. 

“It’s Magnus.” He says, the surest thing in the world, “No matter how hard, I’d take it all.”

Izzy respects him enough to let a moment pass before smiling slyly. “I bet you would.”

Alec doesn’t bat an eyelash. “Every inch, baby.”

Izzy giggles and Alec snickers, and they share the loudest, stupidest laugh over a dumb joke that only the two of them could really ever share, and it would be a miracle if they would be able to gather themselves enough to actually stop. _My brother’s a confirmed bottom_ , Izzy cries in laughter, and Alec crumples onto the bed in his tuxedo, fully wheezing. 

The Lightwood siblings, the same person, but with a chromosome off. 

By the time the doorbell rings downstairs, they’re trying to catch their breath, wiping tears from the corners of their eyes. They hear Maryse squeal all the way from the kitchen. 

Alec can’t help but smile at the thought of who awaits him at the door.

Izzy unfurls herself from her brother and slaps a hand over his back.

“Ready?” she asks, but not really. She smiles at Alec like she already knows. She wipes the last little bit of perspiration from his temple. 

Alec’s smile only grows. “As I’ll ever be.”

“Oh my gosh.” Maryse stands back in her green scrubs, one still on the doorknob, the other on her heart. Her face melts into utter softness, lips pressed together like she’s five seconds from crying.

“Please don’t cry.” Magnus pleads, trying not to laugh, “It’s just me in a suit.”

Maryse exhales through pursed lips, blinking at the ceiling to dispel the glassiness in her eyes. “You’re right,” she tries to say steadily, moving back to let Magnus step into the foyer, “It’s fine, it’s just my babies in suits, I’m fine.”

Magnus laughs, giving her a quick hug, which she returns tightly in full. “I believe in you.” He says, grinning, “Night shift?”

“Unfortunately.” Maryse sighs, deciding to let Magnus go before she squeezes so tight it wrinkles his jacket, “I’ve got Greg from the day shift to hold the fort until I can get pictures.”

Magnus asks dubiously. “And in return..?”

“Let’s just say I got the short end of the stick.” 

Magnus is about to share that Cat is also doing one of three graveyard shifts tonight, when the thud of footsteps echoes from the floor above, steady but unsure. Magnus is already smiling before he even sees a hair on Alec’s head.

“He’s been trying to get ready for the last five hours.” Maryse whispers, smiling, “Hope you like what he’s done.”

If Magnus could find a way to loosen the tightness in his throat, he would laugh. He already loves it—loves it enough to tilt his entire axis, loves it enough to tread the line of the equator twice over.

“Hey,” A nervous greeting comes from the stairs, and Alec descends down the steps, the soles of his shiny dress shoes crisp against the wooden surface. Izzy is at his tail, grinning proudly, and Maryse makes a sound that almost resembles a mouse’s squeak. 

Magnus looks at Alec and it’s like being shown somebody’s precious, sepia-toned photo. 

His eyes wander softly, up the parallel creases that run up the front of his black dress pants, up the sloping lines of his shoulders. His jacket shines a muted sheen against the light, and a tidy bowtie sits at the heart of a perfectly pressed collar. Magnus takes in the meticulous swoop that raises Alec’s usually fluffy hair into a sleek coif, and finally his eyes settles tenderly on Alec’s face. Magnus is absolutely, thoroughly taken by the sight.

He tries to think but comes up empty-handed, a usually vibrant mind going blank, and just then Izzy digs an elbow into Alec’s side, who appears to have also sputtered to a stop.

“ _Holy shit_.” They both say like they have a singular brain, and upon the realization of their synchronicity, they both erupt into laughter. 

Magnus giggles as he slips into the circle of his arms momentarily, breaths fluttering against Alec’s skin as he gives him a small kiss on the cheek. _Hello_ , it warmly says. Alec’s laughter against the shell of his ear and the gentle hands on his back say the same.

Magnus’ fingers hover carefully over Alec’s coif. “You changed your hair.” He says, tone light with wonder.

Alec nervously grins back, fingers fidgeting within his pant pocket. “Do you like it?”

Magnus laughs, combing slightly by the shell of his ear where his hair is slightly shorter. “Is that even a question? _Of course_ I do. I love it.” He grins at Izzy. “I take it you made this possible?”

Izzy smirks. “You’re welcome.” She leans in and speaks under her breath. “Don’t ruin it right away.”

Magnus gives her a teasing pinch to the side and she flounders, cackling like the devil child that she is. 

Maryse claps her hand to gain their attention, her thirty minutes steadily elapsing. “Okay, let me properly look at you two. Izzy, come over here.” 

Izzy hops to her Maryse’s left with a giant grin and they both stand back, pausing for a moment. Maryse lets go of a small, emotional whimper that only overwhelmed mothers could ever produce, and she clutches her phone to her heart. 

“Oh my gosh,” she breathes out, “Look at you both—I might cry, I really might.”

“Mom _please_.” Alec groans, and it makes Maryse quickly gather herself, gulping down her emotions.

“I’m good. I’m an ICU doc for crying out loud.” she sniffs, “Let’s do this.”

“Okay,” Alec says “You can go crazy for five minutes, no more, no less.”

Maryse nods again, breathing out forcefully like she’s practicing for her fourth natural delivery. “That’s all I need.”

They start, and _jesus christ_ are there ever an infinite amount of prom poses that exists in the universe, and as expected, they’re all painfully cheesy. Alec curses himself for giving Maryse five whole minutes of creative freedom, because at the three-minute mark is where his patience starts running thin. By the time the five minutes elapse, Alec is annoyed from the top of his coifed hair down to the tips of his dress shoes. Magnus is the only thing that soothes him to an irate sort of silence, his tiny giggles and wandering palm soothing the lines of tension on his back. Izzy is enjoying the view; payment for grooming services rendered, she says.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Alec tells Izzy with a roll of his eyes, “What do you think will happen when you have your prom next year?”

“Bring it,” Izzy gloats, grinning like a Cheshire cat, “I can’t wait to eat up every single one of those poses.”

He turns to his mom. “ _Please_ tell me we’re done.”

Maryse swipes through her entire catalogue of pictures, before finally looking up with a satisfied grin on her face. “Okay, we’re done.”

Alec pulls Magnus through the door and out of the house as fast as he could, yelling back a harried _bye_ punctuated by a barely-there wave of the hand. Magnus laughingly calls out his goodbyes and bumps teasingly against Alec’s side.

Izzy sighs contentedly as she watches Magnus’ car drive away. “Alec will forever be haunted by those prom poses.”

“Don’t worry, love.” Maryse says mirthfully, giving Izzy’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze, “When it’s your turn to go prom with your version of Magnus, best believe I will be equally as embarrassing.” 

Izzy rolls her eyes, but finds a gentle smile on her lips as she steps back into the house.


	11. Alec Lightwood Loves Magnus Bane Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you need, Magnus?” Alec asks breathlessly when they come up for air, forehead pressed against Magnus’, eyes half-lidded with burgeoning want. 
> 
> Magnus’ breaths audibly between their shared space, and Alec knows he’s thinking outwardly yet again. 
> 
> Alec shakes his head slightly.
> 
> “Magnus,” he mutters again, “What do you need?”

“I’m devastated.” Alec says flatly as they drive off, “I knew you’re going to look good, but I didn’t expect _this_.” 

Magnus snickers, hands on the steering wheel. “Well, the goal was maximum damage. Good to know I chose right.” 

Alec snorts, picks at the collar of Magnus’ jacket, catching one of the few necklaces cascading down the front of his shirt. He shifts the longest chain within his hand. 

“You could wear a garbage bag and you would’ve still chosen right.”

Magnus teases, “And you could be wearing a sack and still look great.”

Alec snorts again, unconvinced. “I’m okay.”

Magnus allows himself a self-indulgent glance towards Alec’s direction, and he’s as beautiful as he’s always been. It’s arresting.

“Oh, Alexander.” Magnus laughs, utterly charmed, “One day I will tire of your obliviousness to your own appeal, but today is not that day.”

Alec shrugs, unperturbed, freeing Magnus’ necklace from his hands and caging fingers against his instead. They a take left into the main road that leads to their school, Magnus maneuvering the steering will deftly with one hand. The main building looms into view, sporadically visible through the foliage of trees lined along the road.

What an unusual feeling it is to drive up to Idris High knowing that in a week, they are to part with it with finality. It’s an apprehension that mingles with excitement, a sadness that crosses paths with happiness. 

A step away from the edge of a cliff, waiting. 

Magnus smiles small, voice creaking under the ache that sits deep in his chest.

“You gonna dance with me, crinkles?”

Alec holds their clasped hands against his chest, the pad of his thumb sweeping against Magnus’ skin. 

“Always.” He murmurs.

 _Hold it_ , Magnus tells himself again, _for Alec_.

They face the double-doors of their brightly decorated gymnasium, bright, technicolor lights throwing beams of color all over the place, the speakers thumping a bass-heavy beat against their chests.

“Here you go.” Alec says politely, giving their tickets to one of the junior year students by the door, and finds that he has to slightly press the stubs into her palms before she finally moves.

“Yeah,” she says, shaking herself slightly, “Go ahead.”

“Thank you.” Magnus says pleasantly, “Hope you get the chance to enjoy the dance too.”

She does nothing but nod quite frantically at his direction, and then sputters, “I’ll try.”

When they walk past the table and through doors, Magnus giggles at Alec, whispering, “I think you broke her, Alexander.”

“Right.” Alec mutters, eyes flickering as they walk further, “Hold my hand?”

Magnus does, and presses close to him soothingly.

Some things simply don’t change, like Idris High’s unmatched fascination of Alec Lightwood, and Alec Lightwood’s unnerved disregard of it. A slack-jawed sort of awe settles over those who catch sight of them walking deeper into the throng of suits and gowns. A steady whisper rises like a fog, mingling with the music from the rented speakers, and it makes Alec fidget in Magnus’ hand. Magnus can’t help but grin to himself in a giddy sort of amusement. 

Alec looks around quizzically, getting more and more ill at ease with every passing second and every pair of eyes that stick to him like stubborn fuzz. He holds Magnus closer to him. “What’s up with them?”

Magnus whispers through a softly dispensed laugh, “They like your suit.”

He lightens considerably. “Oh, okay.”

It is so quintessentially Alec, in his sleek tux, perfectly coifed hair, and shiny shoes, to unintentionally dress to impress the entirety of the year’s graduating class, and be so utterly unmindful of it. It would be annoying if the intent wasn’t so endearingly pure. He doesn’t want eyes on him, doesn’t see the need of it, because what he needs he’s got; he’s out, he’s going to his dream school—and Magnus. 

It always comes back to Magnus.

Whatever attention he divests himself of, he returns a hundredfold onto Magnus.

A pair of hands claps onto both their shoulders, a familiar voice ringing in their ears. “You complete and utter savages.” 

Magnus whips around and finds Clary grinning up at him, Maia right at her tail, weaving through a throng of students dancing together. Clary is draped with a scarlet dress that hits the floor just right, and Maia is bright, sunflower yellow, her hair a soft halo around her head. Jace, Simon, and Lydia trail them both, eager to get to Alec with what could only be some choice but affectionate barbs. 

“You both didn’t have to come so hard for our damn necks!” Clary exclaims.

“I didn’t think I could feel frumpy in a suit,” Simon says matter-of-factly, “But after seeing Magnus’, I guess I can?” 

“I apologize for the lack of red carpeting, your highness,” Jace teasingly curtsies and Alec rolls his eyes fondly at it, “May I offer my own back for you to step on?”

“Shut up,” Alec says, but not without a snicker at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Clary, Maia, Lydia, I’m speechless.” Magnus says hollowly, shaking his head, grinning at them in awe, “You guys look amazing.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Maia grins, “We tried and succeeded.” 

Clary looks over at Alec, thoroughly impressed. “You clean up insanely good, Lightwood.”

Alec smiles slightly, surprisingly taken by her praise. He mutters, slightly pink on the cheeks. “Thanks.”

“Seriously, why do you get to have a Cinderella moment and I don’t?” Jace demands, “This is some bullshit. I want to speak to the manager.”

“You have punch on your rental.” Lydia points out, and it makes Jace gasp a small _shit_. He stalks off to grab a handful of napkins from the table. 

Alec snickers, then turns to Simon. “How was meeting Maia’s parents?”

Simon breathes out, cheeks puffed. Maia looks like she’s trying to tamp down her laughter. 

“They were fine,” he says tensely, voice climbing an entirely different pitch, “Nice, welcoming, we took some photos and all that. Um, but here’s the kicker,”

Simon blanches slightly as he relays his message. “I didn’t know she’s Coach Garroway’s niece?”

Alec stares at Simon, confused. “You didn’t know?”

“Uh, no,” Simon just about squeaks, shaking his head frantically, “No clue, until I picked her up and saw him there?”

“Oh my fucking god.” Alec whispers faintly, trying his hardest to squash his laughter against the roof of his mouth, “Holy shit, Simon.”

“Are you guys talking about the niece situation?” Jace asks as he excitedly pushes past a bunch of dancing seniors to get back to the conversation, crumpled napkins in hand, “What an idiot, huh?”

Simon releases a pained groan, one that makes Maia laughingly siddle up next to him, positively melting at his pouting.

“Imagine if you started dating Maia earlier in the year!” Jace exclaims, “You would’ve warmed that bench for us the entire season!”

Simon half-moans, half-wails this time, and Maia looks at them both with a stern expression that convinces no one. She squashes another laugh against the roof of her mouth.

“Okay, okay, cut it out.” She reprimands, trying her utmost not to grin, which makes Alec and Jace grin, which makes Alec and Jace laugh.

“Okay, I’m done. Sorry.” Alec says, laugh settling onto a teasing smile, “I’m sure you made a good impression, Si.”

Simon sighs, arm winding across Maia’s back. “Well, at least coach won’t be able to punish me with death burpees at Fordham.”

Alec and Jace sputter, eyes wide.

“Shit you got in?!” Jace yells, and Simon’s face finally morphs into one of excitement as he nods frantically. Maia knowingly sidesteps as Jace and Alec rush into Simon’s space and lifts him off his feet in a gigantic hug.

“When did you know, you shit?!” Alec grouses as they allow Simon back onto his feet. He only laughs back at them.

“I got the letter four days ago.” He grins, and Jace laughs, palm patting softly against his back.

“Congrats, Si.” He says affectionately, “We’re proud of you.”

“I am too, of both of you.” Simon says, “You’re going to Syracuse, Alec to NYU.”

Alec smiles a small smile at the mention of it, and it doesn’t quite reach the corners of his eyes. Magnus sees it like a lamp piercing through the fog. Maia proudly shares her Barnard acceptance, and Simon couldn’t be more enthused. Clary says she’s officially going to The Brooklyn Institute of Art, and Lydia tells them that Columbia’s inviting her to come in a week early for some early admissions program. 

Clary turns to Magnus. “Anything from Idris?”

Magnus shrugs slightly, smiling. “Not quite yet.”

“Soon, I’m sure.” Clary says with utmost confidence. 

Alec shifts beside him and he worries, and Magnus knows.

“If not, then I have the perfect name for my back up career as a male stripper.” Magnus grins, winding an arm around Alec’s back.

Clary grins back. “Magic Magnus?”

“Cute, but no.”

“Dick Van Dick. Just two dicks, that’s it.” Lydia supplies, and from the corner of Magnus’ eyes he sees Alec trying not to laugh, trapping it between his teeth. He smirks teasingly.

“Simon?” Magnus prods, and Simon mulls a thought.

“Max Assmaster the Third?” 

Lydia bursts into laughter. “The third?!” 

“What!” Simon laughs, “He’s from a long, noble line of Assmasters!”

Magnus looks at him, thoroughly impressed. “I think that wins.”

“No!” Jace yells, cutting through their conversation, and Magnus can already see his eyes glimmer in premature victory as he stabs a finger in the air. “Zac The Propeller Sack Attack.”

It’s like cork popping off a shaken bottle of champagne, and the laughter pours out of them all in a mess of frothy bubbles. Clary and Lydia is trying their hardest to keep themselves from completely falling over and ruining their dresses, but the boys have all but gave up. Jace is curled in a fetal position on the floor, and Simon is being propped up by a wheezing Maia. Alec buries his face into Magnus’ shoulder, his own shaking uncontrollably, and Magnus welcomes him in his arms wholeheartedly as he struggles to breathe through the ache of his stomach.

“Oh my god.” Magnus says in disbelief, wiping tears from his eyes before it ruins his make up completely, “That’s it. That’s the winner.”

“Yo!” Underhill calls excitedly, as he finds his way to their small collection of people, “What are you guys laughing about?”

“Sacks.” Jace answers, and it sends another wave of achy laughter through them all.

“Okay, makes total sense.” Underhill says slowly, “Anyways, we need a group photo!”

“Prom night selfies or bust, you losers!” Raj calls as he pushes past Underhill and throws an arm around his neck. He’s obnoxiously giggly, and it proves the fact that there’s definitely something more than punch in his little dixie cup. 

They pull more of their senior year teammates as they find them, their little circle growing exponentially. They’ve only been there a few minutes and they’re already so fucking noisy, as they usually are. Alec cringes through the commotion of them arranging themselves in a way that fits everybody within frame, just as much as he laughs at Raj as demands to be carried across the arms of five people in the pose he wants to achieve. They realize the selfie approach isn’t going to work, so they pull an unsuspecting person from the crowd and asks him to take far too many photos on far too many individual phones. Alec feels poorly for the unfortunate soul.

Magnus bumps his hips against Alec’s, teasing but affectionate. _You okay?_

Alec smiles softly, pressing lips against Magnus’ hair. 

As long as Magnus is, Alec is.

Alec doesn’t realize how much comfort he gleans from Magnus’ presence alone until he has to venture to the vending machine on his own.

Magnus is in the washroom across the hall, and his own team has decided to spill into the football field for what they say is the last time in this school year. He’s got something important to do, so he falls back on the teambuilding activity (Jace and Simon wink him their good luck) and decides instead to get something to drink. He’s cracking his can open when he hears Magnus from afar.

“Alexander!” Magnus calls, and Alec sees him walking side by side with Sebastian Verlac. It makes him dispense a brief look at the vending machine, and if not for the small sip of coke on his tongue, he would’ve laughed.

“How’d you find each other?” Alec asks after a gulp, wincing slightly at how it makes his throat feel. 

“We were urinal buddies.” Magnus grins, and it makes both Alec and Sebastian groan in sickness.

“Gross,” Alec says, and Magnus snickers as he winds an arm around his elbow. 

“Quite the entrance, you two.” Sebastian says, impressed as he turns to Magnus, “You’re definitely rubbing off on him.”

“I suppose he is.” Alec smiles slightly, taking stock of himself. “I’m definitely a far cry from how I was before.”

“Well, it suits you.” Sebastian smiles, “I’m glad you two figured it out.”

Alec laughs, shaking his head slightly. He doesn’t have to say it, but as usual Sebastian evokes comfort and trust within him, so he says, “I don’t know if you know, but you’re a massive foot note to how Magnus and I got together.”

Sebastian’s eyes glisten in remembrance, and it makes him laugh right back. “Yes. Funny enough, I do. First time to be in a sort of love triangle, and I must say it’s quite the experience.”

He adds kindly, “I hope I didn’t stir the pot too much.”

“You didn’t.” Magnus smiles, his tone lilted lightly, “Well, just enough to make a story memorable.” 

Alec mulls a thought, teasing. “I don’t know, you were pretty devastated.”

Magnus raises a brow at him. “Okay, I was sad, at best. Devastated is pushing it.”

Alec squints an eye down at him, as if to say _you're clearly deluded_. “Izzy didn’t almost smack me into oblivion for making you feel slightly sad at best.” 

Magnus laughs in disbelief, hands to his hips now. “Big talk from somebody who was this close to crying when he suggested we be friends instead.”

Alec is about to put forth a better argument in defense of his pride, but Sebastian cuts him off with a small laugh and a shake of the head.

“You two were equally, ridiculously dumb.” He candidly points out, “Trust me, I witnessed both sides if it.”

“You’re not nearly as nice as I remember you to be.” Alec says.

Sebastian grins, mischief filling his eyes. “Who said I was?” Somebody calls his name from afar, and he waves back, ushering him to come over.

“ _Mignon ton date_.” Magnus says, utterly impressed, as he motions towards the guy in the blue suit making his way towards their direction. He then says teasingly, “ _J'espère que ton gars est un meilleur danceur que le mien_.”

Sebastian chortles. “ _Je n'ai pas beaucoup d'espoir dès qu'il s'agit de dancer pour les joueurs de football. Idris ou Erasmus Hall_.”

“Excuse me?” Alec says indignantly, “I’m right here? And what about Erasmus Hall?” A crease forms on Alec’s brow as he takes in more of Sebastian’s date. He leans forward slightly, muttering under his breath, “Also, he looks _really_ familiar.”

Sebastian smiles knowingly. “You’re not the only football player who was moved by those rainbow flags last November.” 

Alec blinks, the realization slow in the way it dawns. He remembers the game, pride bracelet around his wrist, strokes of color painting the crowd, Magnus with _22_ and _AL_ on his cheeks. Though as far as he knows, he’s the only out athlete in their interschool league. The unnamed Erasmus Hall football player settles to a stop as he reaches them, and Alec’s recognition of him grows even more.

“Idris 22?” he asks, smiling slightly.

Alec nods, unable to speak.

“You helped me come out, 22.” He says, “Thank you.”

Alec doesn’t know what to say. “What do you mean?”

“I saw what you had that day.” He speaks with remembrance in his words, “And I told myself, even if I only had the smallest bit of it, I’d be happy.”

With no break in his voice or pride in his words, just a statement of a modest truth, he says, “You helped me be happy.” 

No matter how hard he searches, Alec's mind offers nothing of greatness to share back. Through a tight throat he asks instead, “What’s your name?”

“Trevor.”

Alec gulps the ache in his throat. “Alec.”

There’s a solidarity in the smile that they share.

“Nice to meet you, Alec.”

Alec nods. “You too.”

“We’re gonna get dinner.” Sebastian says, “Care to join?”

Magnus decides to answer for them both. “We’ve got one planned with friends. Thank you for the invitation.” 

“Okay.” 

Sebastian gives Magnus and Alec a small, parting wave as they both walk away. As the image of their backs and their threaded fingers grow farther and farther as each second elapses, Alec remembers the first advice he ever received from Sebastian— _coming out is giving a part of yourself to everyone else, and it’s frightening, for they can do with it as they please. Some will be assholes, some will be kind_.

And some, apparently, will be moved so thoroughly by it that it’s what finally places their fingers against their own closet doors. Finally pushing it open, no matter how small of a space it makes. Finally letting sunlight spill into the cracks, breaking the solitary, pitch-black darkness in half. 

Alec remembers the feeling of sanded wood against the pads of his own fingers like a memory so remote it almost doesn't feel like his.

With eyes wide with disbelief, Alec turns to Magnus, his own point of finality, his own final push. He finds him looking up at him with unabashed pride in his eyes, again looking outwardly, completely oblivious to the gravity of his contribution to two people’s very ability to come out.

“Oh my god, Alexander.” He almost whispers, awestruck.

He is the hand that set to motion Alec's entire life, and Magnus doesn't even know the extent to how much he's done so.

Magnus Bane, the kindest person he's ever known.

Alec takes his hand and pulls him forward.

“Come with me.”

Magnus doesn’t need to ask where Alec is taking him.

They take the familiar path towards the west building, the way shrouded with darkness except for the light beaming down from the lamp posts that line the way there. There’s a kind of silence between them that is heavy with things unsaid, but light in the contentment that it will be divulged when the right moment allows. 

There’s a special kind of trust that exists between two people walking to the edge of the world, hand in hand. 

They push through the stairwell door and climbs the four flights of stairs up the rooftop, and when they step back out into the chilly air, Magnus is greeted by the sight of soft, yellow lights.

His eyes follow the almost endless lines of string lights all around them. He finds it twisted along newly erected trellises for the climbing hydrangeas and trumpet vines, which replaced the vegetable plots that had since been defunct since winter came upon them. With the seasons changing and the whirlwind of academic responsibilities, they haven’t been up here since before the first snow set in. 

“Did you do this?” Magnus asks wondrously, barely above a whisper, and Alec gives him a smile halfway between a knowing quirk of the lip and a proud grin. 

“I had some help.” 

Magnus imagines the entirety of the football team crawling up the trellises trying to hang little strung up light bulbs onto it. The image it makes in his mind conjures a small chuckle from his lips.

Alec pulls Magnus to the empty space of the rooftop and stands them in the middle. Magnus wordlessly watches, gently amused, as Alec unwinds the cord to his earphones. _Old school_ , Magnus murmurs teasingly, and Alec says with a mirthful smile, _good excuse to keep you close_. He looks back at him, muttering a small _here_ as he slots one bud into Magnus’ ear, the other in his own. Alec smiles to himself as he scrolls through his phone, a gentle tune spilling into their ears as he presses play.

Alec presents his hand before him, palm to the sky, waiting.

“I’m not very good,” He says, smiling nervously, “But I’d like to dance with you.”

Magnus smiles, and takes his hand. “I’d like that too.” 

Alec gives his hand a small tug, pulling until Magnus is flush against his chest. He shifts their joined hands together until Magnus’ fingers cling against his, his other palm sliding across his back. His mouth settles softly onto the shell of Magnus’ ear like something lost in the universe finally finding its way home. 

Alec moves them both, swaying gently, and Magnus lets himself be taken by his current, fighting nothing and everything at the same time. He presses his mouth against Alec’s shoulder as he always does, breathing in. The scent of him fills him to the brim, and he is tempted to hold his breath forever. He lets Alec settle deep into his lungs, the same way he’s let Alec into every corner of his entire life.

He doesn’t regret it. Not a single bit.

And with the thought of it, Magnus feels the familiar ghost of an ache rise in his chest. Alec, like the moon that he is, aligns perfectly against Magnus’ earth in ways that pushes and pulls his tides. And Magnus, the hopeless speck of the universe that he is, lets him. 

_Don’t_ , Magnus chastises himself, and his exhale trips shakily from his lips when he breathes out, _hold it_ —

“Magnus, it’s okay.” Alec says, and it means _let go._

The tide rises from the base of his lungs to the bulk of his throat. 

“Please, it’s okay.” He says again, tucking their joined hands against his chest, the fingers on Magnus’ back sweeping up to clasp gently against his shoulder. He braces Magnus against him, _lean on me_.

“I’m here.”

It must be awful for the heart to not let it feel the way it’s meant to feel.

Magnus finally lets his. 

Alec drives them both home. 

Magnus sits at the driver’s seat, only ever the third time he’s ever done so. First was when he attempted to join Alec in his early morning laps during the thick of football season. Second was when he got too drunk at Maia’s party after essentially giving Alec a lap dance. Today, he isn’t sleeping, nor is he drunk, but he blearily looks out the open car window. One hand is pressed against the side of his head, propping it against the window, and the other threads intimately against Alec’s. He holds their conjoined hands close to his heart. 

When they arrive at Magnus’ house, Alec takes the keys from his pocket, slotting it and turning the door knob deftly. He gently tugs Magnus in and patiently ushers him up the carpeted stairs. Alec places his palms against Magnus shoulders and plants him onto his bed. He gives him a quick kiss to the temple, fingers carding through his hair, before padding soundly into his bathroom. When he comes back, he’s unsealing Magnus’ pack of make up wipes, pulling out a sheet and wrapping it around two fingers. 

Alec kneels in front of Magnus and settles back onto his heels. 

“C’mere.” He murmurs.

Magnus wordlessly follows, and Alec wipes away streaked, blotchy eyeliner from his eyes, the khol smudging against red eyeshadow as it collects onto the damp, cotton sheet. He pulls out another one and works it gently against his forehead, cheeks, and jaw. He strips off patches of it, little by little, letting skin emerge underneath. By the time he’s done, the Magnus that looks back at him—face bare, eyes tired, chest open—is the most of Magnus Alec has ever seen.

In the darkness of his bedroom and the quiet that presses around them, Alec can see Magnus ever so clearly.

Alec looks, deeply looks, probing Magnus’ face for anything other than tearful exhaustion. He works the slowly drying cotton sheet between his fingers and it frays beneath his restless touch. It takes a second, one that is stretched into an almost painful minute, for Magnus to finally shift. He brings himself closer to the edge of his bed. 

He holds Alec’s face between his hands and brushes his lips against his.

It’s gentle and chaste, his thumb smudging something invisible at the high point of Alec’s cheek. He slowly draws back, the meeting point of their mouths breaking, the distance between only a breath away. He kisses the corner of Alec’s mouth before finding his lips again, a little deeper this time.

Alec kisses back, lips moving against Magnus, not with raging fervor but gentle patience. He kisses as if every kiss isn’t a mere touch of the lips, but something that nurses wounds and alleviates pain. He rises from his heels and places himself fully onto his knees, and it tips Magnus back.

They break their kiss momentarily as Alec shrugs off his jacket and so does Magnus. They reach for each other’s shirts, fingers working on the other’s buttons until they can peel it off their backs. Magnus makes a quick work of unbuckling Alec’s belt as Alec fumbles with the intricate mechanism of Magnus’, but they’re able strip down to their underwear at the end of it all.

They settle back onto the bed, and Magnus pulls Alec into another time-defying, axis-tilting kiss.

“What do you need, Magnus?” Alec asks breathlessly when they come up for air, forehead pressed against Magnus’, eyes half-lidded with burgeoning want. 

Magnus breathes audibly between their shared space, and Alec knows he’s thinking outwardly yet again. Alec shakes his head slightly.

“Magnus,” he mutters again, “What do _you_ need?”

Magnus struggles guiltily with it, because this is Alec’s first time, and it should be how Alec wants. But Alec presses around him, hands to his back, mouth to his cheek, _please lean on me_. 

“Fuck me.” Magnus finally says, voice quiet.

But Alec won’t have any of it. He smiles, presses his lips against Magnus’ again. He says, an exhale billowing against skin, “Then touch me.”

Magnus can’t help the small soft quirk of the lip that pulls at the corners of his lips as he palms Alec’s cheeks again and kisses with liberated ardor this time, tongue sinking deeply to meet his. They clumsily collapse back onto the mattress, the back of Magnus’ head digging into his pillow as Alec drifts over him in a push and pull of their mouths moving together. Alec grinds down against Magnus if only to feel the rumble of his moan against the flat of his tongue. Upon catching one, he rolls his hips again, selfish in its self-indulgence. 

Alec follows the line of Magnus’ neck, mouth chasing the vibrations of his voice as it escapes him in whimpering moans. 

“Alexander,” Magnus whispers, affection and reverence at the same time. It gnaws a needy ache deep into Alec’s gut, and he cants his hips deeper, dizzy in the friction it creates.

Magnus peels his hands from Alec and grapples against the drawer of his side table. He fishes out a bottle of lube and condoms, and at the sight of it Alec stops rutting long enough to let Magnus hook a finger on the waist band of his underwear and pull it off. Alec is already half-hard and heavy against the ridge of Magnus’ stomach, and he shudders softly as Magnus sheaths his lubed palm around his cock. 

“Fuck, Magnus,” he breathes, voice twisting into small whines as Magnus fists his cock and bobs up and down his length in smooth strokes. 

“Kiss me.” Magnus all but pleads, and Alec wholeheartedly concedes to the request.

A particularly exquisite drag of the palm and a flick of the thumb against Alec’s head makes him choke on a breath and blurs his vision. He collapses on his forearms, caging Magnus’ head as he fucks steadily into his hand. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Alec chokes out into the juncture of Magnus’ neck where he buries himself like he’s found his final resting place. Magnus works Alec within one hand and combs the other through his hair, now in complete ruin under his strained touch. 

Alec mumbles a forcibly restrained _okay_ as he touches Magnus’ wrist for him to stop, because anything else would most likely teeter him over the edge. He presses another kiss onto Magnus’ lips, a small, gentle _thank you_ , before pushing his briefs past the swells of his ass and off him completely. 

“You have to tell me what to do.” Alec says softly, “How you want it, if I’m doing it right, if I’m doing it wrong.”

Magnus inhales, exhales. He knows what is really being asked of him—Alec wants him to be honest, even if it breaks his heart. 

Magnus runs a thumb against the corner of Alec’s eyes, and Alec mouths into the palm that flattens against his cheek. _Okay_.

“Go down on me.” He says.

And Alec does, catching skin between lips and teeth on his way down, tongue swirling soothingly at the redness he leaves in his wake. He follows Magnus’ needy moans and breathless direction like the winding lines of a map in his hands, until his mouth stretches over Magnus’ leaking cock and sinks down onto it. It’s nothing extraordinary, but it makes Magnus’ eyelids flutter softly as he breathes Alec’s name out into the atmosphere, fingers flexing and unflexing against the side of his head. 

_Put a finger in me_ , Magnus says under his breath, and with a kiss to the hip Alec’s mouth leaves Magnus’ cock and follows suit, slowly pressing a lube-slicked finger into his entrance. 

“I’m not coordinated enough for both.” he says in apology, and Magnus winces slightly, gently grasping at Alec’s hair. 

“It’s okay.” He mutters, “It’s been a while, so we might have to go slow.”

Alec is nothing but patient, but for Magnus, time can stutter into a stop altogether and he wouldn’t mind. He breaches Magnus and works him open gently, tentatively, and he watches as the crease in Magnus’ brow furrow deeply as he tries to shush his body into pliability. 

Gritted teeth is soon replaced by quiet whimpers, and Magnus’ hips cant gently in search of more of Alec’s touch. He palms his own hardness and languidly wrings a fist over the length of it. By the second finger, Magnus pulls Alec upon him and asks to be kissed. By the third, he tells Alec to twist on his way up. _Stay in_ , Magnus says, words strangled, _curve your fingers up_ , and Alec knows he’s done beautifully when he presses on the spot that throws Magnus’ head against the pillow, punching the air cleanly from his lungs.

 _Deeper, faster_ , Alec fulfills every request, and he revels in the way Magnus finally turns his gaze not to others, but to himself.

“I’m ready,” Magnus says, ripping the foil package of a condom and rolls it down Alec’s length hurriedly. 

He abruptly falters to a stop.

Alec’s brow furrows, mouth pressed together in concern. “Magnus, what is it?”

“This is your first time.” Magnus murmurs, “Is this how you want it?”

Alec replies like it’s the most universal of all truths. 

“It’s you. That’s all I need.”

Magnus shakes his head, smiling slightly, eyes glassy. He enfolds Alec within his arms, clutching him against his chest as he slowly and steadily guides himself into Magnus. Magnus takes Alec in the same way he’s taken him into his life for the last three years—in little, life-altering parts, and then breathlessly all at once.

Alec slowly sheathes into Magnus and mouths into his neck, breathing a shaky inhale-exhale. Magnus takes him down to the hilt, and he couldn’t breathe if he wanted to, not when he’s filled to the brim by everything that is Alec; heart, body, and soul. Alec moves within him, slow and tentative at first, and then steadily in a rhythm that unwaveringly divests Magnus of the air in his lungs.

“Alexander,” Magnus whimpers, “Harder, please.”

The words grip Alec like nothing else ever had, and it makes him rut quicker and deeper into Magnus as if he aims to collect every heady moan for himself. It’s clumsy at first, but Alec has always been an eager student, so he takes Magnus’ whispered guidance with no hesitation. He angles himself the slightest bit differently and the gamble pays off because it batters right at Magnus’ prostate, rendering him into splendid incoherence. Magnus grapples at Alec’s hair and down his back, holding onto him for dear life as he is fucked fully and thoroughly.

“Magnus,” Alec says, and simply says, eyes squeezed shut, and then again, and again, a murmured prayer. 

They both feel the tell-tale warmth that pools in their stomachs, their muscles coiling tightly as they climb the inclined line of their climax that is within close reach. Alec’s hips stutters in its cadence, thighs flexing, balls rising, and Magnus palms his cock between their moving bodies, working to meet Alec where he is. 

“Magnus,” he pants into the shell of his ear, “I’m close,” 

“Right here with you,” Magnus chokes out, his hardness flushed and leaking within his moving hand.

Whatever control Alec had when they started slips from his grasp as he fucks with wild abandon, chasing his own pleasure while thinking of Magnus’. With a few quick twists of the wrist and strangled cry of Alec’s name, Magnus comes onto his stomach, threads of his release twining with his fingers. Magnus coasting the wave of his orgasm and tightening around Alec’s cock is all he needs, and before he realizes it Alec hits his own crest, gasping piercingly within the junction of Magnus’ neck. 

Alec collapses onto Magnus with a huffy _oof_ , and he pulls air into his lungs like he’s run an hour-long marathon. His eyes flutter lazily against the heady fog in in mind, and all he could feel is the warmth of Magnus around him and fingers carding his hair. Alec sighs in breathless contentment, grinding into Magnus in languid pleasure, slowly coming down from his peak. 

Magnus draws circles on Alec’s scalp, a slight smile on his mouth as his chest rises and falls. “Still alive, crinkles?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Alec mumbles against Magnus’ neck, and it makes him snicker.

“Also, did you just say _oof_?”

“Depends, are you going to make fun of me?”

“Yes.”

“Then no.”

It pulls a bright giggle from Magnus’ mouth. It bubbles out of him so thoroughly, pinching his eyes into crescent moons, lips split into a splendid grin. _Stooop_ , Alec whines around a laugh, and he grinds into Magnus one last time if not to exact vengeance for his teasing. It doesn’t do much with a softened cock, but Magnus does groan in pain-pleasure, the soreness of their fucking starting to settle. 

Alec gently unsheaths from Magnus, kissing away the small hiss of ache that comes with it, and they roll onto their sides, mouths languidly moving against each other. Sleepiness comes to them, parting their lips, fluttering their eyes tiredly.

“I love you, Magnus.” Alec murmurs, a reminder.

Magnus rests his head against Alec’s chest, arms winding around his waist, legs tangling together. He holds him close, as if to cradle something precious in his arms.

“I love you too, Alexander.”

They fall into a comfortable slumber. 

Alec stirs from sleep with sun on his back.

“Crinkles,” Magnus whispers, coaxing him farther and farther from bleariness, “Wake up.”

“Mm.” Alec mumbles, legs shifting against the cool sheets, head nuzzling deeper into his borrowed pillow. He feels a kiss press onto the base of his neck, and then another further down his back. The next one jolts through his spine thoroughly as he feels his skin taken between teeth, before being soothed by a swirl of the tongue. 

Alec’s awake, no doubt, but he’s not above pretending not to be. 

“You’re not fooling anyone, Alexander.” Comes Magnus’ amused voice, but Alec is stubborn.

Magnus groans softly, plopping his cheek against the plane of Alec’s back. “Come on. I’m hungry.”

“I’m awake,” Alec announces scratchily, flipping onto his back. He frowns at the sunlight that hits his face as he does, blinking sleep away as reaches out in hopes of pulling Magnus in for a kiss. “I think I’m still half-hard—”

Magnus laughs, planting a palm against Alec’s face. “You sorely misunderstood what I meant.”

Alec looks at him blearily. “Oh.”

Magnus chuckles fondly as he props his head up with an elbow onto the mattress. “Dummy.”

A big yawn stretches Alec out like a cat, joints creaking as he does. His long limbs drape over Magnus’ entirety, drowning him underneath firm muscle and warm skin. Magnus groans from where he’s pinned underneath six feet of Lightwood. 

“I’m _starving_ ,” Magnus whines, fingers digging against Alec’s ribs in an attempt to dislodge him, but that is not his weak spot and he only clamps onto him tighter. “We didn’t eat last night.”

“You got fed either way.”

Magnus bursts into laughter and smacks Alec right on the head. “You fuck once and suddenly you’re all smooth and cheeky?”

“Are you talking about my ass?”

“Oh my god!” Magnus cries, the sound of his laughter mingling with Alec’s muffled giggling, “You’re a menace!”

Alec squishes Magnus’ face between his hands and finally presses onto his lips the kiss he’s been meaning to give. Magnus smiles against his mouth, fingers playing lightly at the hair behind his ear. 

There’s something enchanting in contentment like this. 

“Shower.” Magnus says, and Alec only fully realizes what he means when he feels Magnus’ grip pull at his wrist. 

“Oh.” Alec says, and then again, “ _Oh_.”

He scrambles off the bed quickly.

They get to Java Jones just as it opens. 

Alec gets savory, Magnus gets sweet, and between their four plates they stuff themselves into contentment. Magnus groans again, this time from the steadily elapsing crash that threatens to bring him down into a food coma. 

“I told you to pace yourself.” Alec says pointedly as he takes Magnus’ keys and ushers him into the passenger’s seat. He reaches for the seatbelt, tugs it across his chest, and buckles it in for him, and Magnus blearily mumbles his thank you.

As they drive back, Magnus reaches across the parting of their two seats, winds his arms around his, and burrows his temple against Alec’s shoulder. His steady breathing is punctuated by small, barely-there snores.

For the fourth time, Alec drives.

When they arrive back to Magnus’ place, a letter from Idris University pokes out of the mail slot. 

Magnus takes it in one hand, then turns to Alec.

“Can you drive us to school?”

Magnus sits himself down onto the carpeted flooring, legs crossed. Alec settles right beside him, pressed against his side, an arm draped over the closest knee within reach. He brushes his fingers soothingly against the denim of Magnus’ pants. 

The library is empty as it is on a Saturday. Unlike the last time Alec and Magnus had been in this room together, there’s nobody loitering the shelves and occupying the desks. It’s just the two of them sitting cross-legged on the floor, the classic lit section towering before them, and Magnus’ favorite panelled window beaming sunlight onto their backs. 

Dust floats in animated suspension in the air.

Alec settles his chin against Magnus’ shoulder, looking pointedly at the letter still held nervously within his one hand. Magnus releases a steady exhale, his fingers managing a small rip at the short edge of the envelope. He works at it until it's big enough to hook a finger in it, and then claws it open the rest of the way. The letter slips out like a knife from its scabbard. He unfolds it, the ripples upon the paper betraying Magnus' unease.

 _Dear Mr. Magnus Bane, Idris University is pleased to tell you that you have been accepted into the Faculty of Literature, Language, Arts, and Social Sciences. Attached to this letter is a list of required documentation to be submitted to the Admissions Office._

Magnus smiles, shaking his head slightly. 

Alec grins at him, lips finding the side of his head, an arm draping itself around Magnus’ shoulders.

“Congratulations, Magnus.” He says gently, “I’m so happy for you.” Alec means it thoroughly, encompassing, the elation in his words rooted so deeply he doesn’t know where the it ends. 

Magnus exhales, the base of his palm wiping stubbornly against his eyes. 

“We can do this, right?” he asks.

They stand at the edge of a cliff, waiting.

Alec smiles softly, fingers threading into jet black hair.

Magnus. His one constant. The singular point in the universe he could always come back to.

He murmurs, “You’re the only thing I’m sure of.” 

Magnus enfolds his lips against Alec’s, kissing deeply. Alec runs a thumb against Magnus’ cheek, catching wetness under the pad of it.

“Okay.” Magnus nods, smiling.

Alec smiles back. “Okay.”

Hands twined, wind beating against their backs, they take the leap.

And the water below is a brilliant blue.

Almost-senior Alec Lightwood is seated on his bed, a week away from starting the final year of high school. He couldn’t help the sigh that flutters out of his lips, a habit he’s found himself unconsciously doing more and more. He’s not surprised; he couldn’t remember the last time he’s been thoroughly happy about anything.

Sadness, Alec had come to realize, seeps out of a person no matter how much one tries to tamp it down. It will manifest through the lilt of their voice, on the line of their shoulders. Alec had once thought himself not sad, but simply, not happy. A state of perpetual lack of contentment. He had accepted that lot in life, once. Now he’s not so sure.

Every day something nags at him like an internal wound that fails to heal, something so deep that no superficial remedy could fix it. And the ache—god, the ache it leaves is mind-numbing. 

The thing is, Alec knows what the injury is, just as he knows what the treatment is.

But he’s not ready.

And he thinks, truly thinks, that he never will be.

He reaches into his side table drawer and pulls out the last book out of the seven he borrowed from the library during sophomore year. He’s been steadily chipping away at it, slower than he’d expected, because he’s the idiot who decided to borrow seven books in one fell swoop instead of checking it out one at a time like a normal person.

Magnus had pointed that out back then, but Alec’s inability to form a coherent sentence around him had led to him raising his hackles defensively instead. 

But Magnus is Magnus. He forgave and forgot, and not only that, he checked out half of his stash under his name as well. Alec finds crescent moon eyes and warm smiles in his mind at the prospect of him. 

He cracks open Persuasion by Jane Austen, one Magnus himself suggested he read. _Austen’s most mature book_ , he said brightly, _more realistic than dramatic. But read it last._ According to Magnus he had read it quite a number of times himself, and Alec finds a speck of comfort at the chance to at least know him in such a way.

Magnus is, and will always be just a beautiful thought. 

He is fantastical in the way that he will never be more than Alec’s quiet delusion, because no matter how much he likes him— _truly_ likes him—Alec isn’t out. And so the comfort he finds in Magnus’ laughter, or in the split-second delay in the way he takes back his hand after laying fingers on Alec’s skin, is as real as a dream one has when only half-awake. 

He’ll never get to talk to Magnus. 

He’ll never get to touch him.

And Alec Lightwood will never get to kiss Magnus Bane.

Alec flips the title page and something flutters off the page and onto his blanket. It bears familiar handwriting. He recognizes it from the algebra booklet that he flipped through during sophomore year, and the little scribbles on the margins of Izzy’s notes. It’s Magnus’ lazy but fanciful scrawl on a scrap piece of paper.

_One day you’ll find courage to come out of the woods, and find that everybody is waiting for you with baited breaths. When you’re ready, Alexander. - M_

Something shifts. Alec doesn’t know what, how, or why, but he just knows it did. His mouth is dry, but his heart soars readily within the cradle of his lungs. 

Alec breathes in, breathes out, tides rising and falling as he does.

He laughs in utter disbelief, but also, hopeful happiness.

“Shit.”

art by [anushbanush](https://anushbanush.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this story, and thank you for loving our boys.  
> Redacted!babies, always.
> 
> Nhixxie


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